The Black Ladybug
by Part-time Fairy
Summary: Bella has grown up feeling unwanted and abandoned, even more so after a tragic accident. As a result, she built walls around her and refuses to let anyone in. Edward decides to try anyway. Will he succed? A little story about love and trust. AH, OOC, canon pairings. Rated M for its themes, strong language and eventual lemons ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, everybody. This is my first story, so go easy on me. ;) **

** I've read all those stories about bad-ass Edward and sweet, little Bella, and I thought "What if the roles were reversed?" So, there. In here, you'll find a Punkella that didn't have it easy and a sweet Nerdward with a rough past, trying to make it work together.**

**Inspiration: Amuse Bouche - The Twilight Twenty-five: Round 8- Prompt 13 by GeekChic12. I read it and BOOM inspiration. Resemblance with any other stories is coincidental.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter One<p>

Beep, beep, beep.

_Ugh, stop it, you stupid motherfucker! I heard you!_, I think to myself as I reach out my hand to turn off the offending alarm clock. I stand up too quickly and clutch my head at the sudden dizziness, falling back in my pillow. How much did I have to drink last night? Pretty sure I got off, too, but I can't be certain. Oh, well. A bit more carefully this time, I rise slowly, swing my feet to the side and get up from my tiny bed. I look out of the window. Huh, it is raining again, what a shocker. It's _always_ raining here in Forks, I swear.

Get up, answer Mother Nature's call, get dressed in my favorite band's T-shirt, tight and slightly torn jeans and worn off All-Stars, put on my makeup –Heaven forbid I forget to cover the occasional proof of his temper, plus I've come to love the eyeliner. Then rush down the stairs, eat breakfast –or in my case shove some cereal and milk or coffee down my throat-, bide my dad, Charlie, goodbye and haul my ass to school. That pretty much sums up my morning routine, though today I have to take one more step. Swallow half a dozen painkillers or so. Fucking hangover!

I guess it wasn't the best idea to go to that party last night, but it was Sunday. I wanted to have a good time and I had run out of booze. And weed.

Weed.

Felix.

_Fuck_.

I haven't walked down the stairs completely, when I hear my father in the kitchen, making coffee as if nothing happened last evening. No doubt I needed to go to that stupid party.

"Good morning, Bells." He tells me while sipping from his mug with a hopeful and somewhat wary smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever, Charlie." I don't want to talk to him right now. Basically, I don't want to talk to him, period.

"Now, now, don't be like that young lady." He reprimands sternly. I am not in the mood for his _"I'm your father"_ shit. Besides, I am running late for school. Ignoring him completely, just to rile him up, I pour myself some coffee and sip.

"I said, don't give me that attitude of yours!" he spits through gritted teeth, grabbing my wrist before I can exit the kitchen. His face is slightly red and that little vein on his temple looks about to burst.

I look up at him slowly. "Or what?" I ask calmly, though I am about five nanoseconds away from combusting.

"Or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" I cut him off and get in his face. "You'll do what? Slap me across the face like you did yesterday? Grip my arms so tightly you'll leave bruises? Oh, I know. My favorite. You'll push me down to the floor and kick me. Yeah, can't wait." I finish sarcastically.

He makes a bubble face and sits back down on his chair. "Bellsy, I'm sorry about what happened last night. There was some trouble at the station, and I was frustrated and then you had the music so loud…" he trails off, staring at his fidgeting hands. "Please, forgive me."

I can't answer him the way he wants me to. I can't bring myself to forgive him just yet; I know I will, because he's all I have left. However, my face still hurts. If only I was half as strong as he is, I would've kicked his sorry ass to the ground a long time ago. But, I don't want a repeat act, so I choose not to give him a direct response. I have, after all, mastered that.

"Just take some time to cool off before you take it out on me. And don't drink with an empty stomach." Shouldn't he be telling _me_ that? We're fucked up.

"I didn't-"

I throw him a knowing look, tilting my head to the side.

"Ok."

"What happened at the station, anyway?" I ask a tad bit concerned about the only source of income in this house. For now. Because I got me a part-time job at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. My first employer will be -_drum-roll-_ Mike fucking Newton. I know, but at least I'll have my own money. Dad hasn't found out yet. And I intend to keep him in the dark for as long as possible.

However, the Forks Police Department is like a second home to me. I have spent countless hours running and playing in there while he worked non-stop as a cop. As of lately, he has to take double shifts, because… something happened. No wonder he started drinking even more.

"Nothing serious, it was just a small fight," he answers and gives me a half-ass smile. I don't reciprocate.

"I gotta go." I get up, rinse my -her- mug and go for the door. As I am about to turn the knob and go, I turn back around.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me Bellsy again. Deal?"

"Oh, right. Sure, sure."

We both know he will use it against me again, next time he wants me to come around.

And I'm out.

~*~TBL~*~

The first thing I notice when I get inside my car is the smell. Someone must have gotten high in here last night. I rarely lock it, because who would want to steal it? I open the glove department and sure enough, they had forgotten a small joint. I find it, I keep it.

I pick up the small joint and turn it in my fingers wistfully.

Which brings me back to Felix.

Fucker played with me. He pretended to be the good guy and I fell for his shit. He only dated me for a week. He took me with him at a party, got me high as a kite, fucked me and then he never talked to me again. I'm not sure how many times I had to stop my cousin from my dad's side, Emmett, from crushing Felix's skull, or balls, and it was no easy feat. Emmett is huge, how come we are related I don't know. Anyway, it was over within weeks. Fucker moved. End of story.

I have to thank him for one thing, though. He showed me how good smoking pot is. No, scratch that. He showed me how good _not feeling_ is. That's why I still do it. Make no mistake, I'm not an addict and I don't do anything heavy –only on special occasions anyway. Sometimes, on special occasions, it's nice. It takes it all away. Memories, guilt, pain.

Shit, there I go again.

God, won't I ever forg- the sound of a horn pulls me from my inner ramblings. When did I get to school? I can barely remember the ride in my old bucket a.k.a. my car, a rusty Chevy. Yeah, it's a piece of junk but I love it. And it's the only thing I can afford for now. So deal.

I park, get out of the car and walk around the passenger door to retrieve my backpack. As I slide it over my shoulder, I notice a few students staring at me.

I wonder what it is this time. Shouldn't they have gotten used to my look by now? Perhaps, it's my makeup, I'll fix it later. Or perhaps it's the new piercing over my left eyebrow. So far I have three, one on my left eyebrow, one on my right nostril and one on my tongue. It was useful once, the last one.

Don't go there, don't go there.

I sigh audibly. Who cares? After I'm through with P.E everybody will have a reason to stare at me. As of last Friday, my ribs on the right side are also adorned with ink, along with my back, above my butt and my left hipbone. I had it done about three weeks ago, and now I'm finally bandage-free. I know it wasn't exactly legal since I'm still seventeen, but I got the tattoo and Jacob, my go-to guy at La Push, got the money. I wouldn't tell if he didn't. Initially, I wanted to write something deep and insightful like _never give up_ or some shit, but I couldn't. I couldn't mark my body permanently with words even _I _don't believe.

Sometimes, you just give up. Not because you're weak or a coward, but because you can't fight anymore. Because there's nothing left inside you to give and you know that if you try any harder, you'll fall apart. So you give up.

I know _she_ would want me strong for Dad and me, but I tried and failed. So I got some magnolia and freesia blossoms, instead. She loved them. Well, the blossoms and her initials. It's cheesy as hell, but I needed to do it. I needed to have her with me, on me, all the time.

On the other hand, anything would have worked. Anything as long as that ugly-ass scar isn't noticeable any longer. Another ugly thing I'm responsible for. Another scar I'm responsible for.

Goddamn it! What is it with me today?

I take a deep breath and try to rid myself of the offensive images that fight to worm their way to the forefront of my mind. They come anyway. I sigh again and start walking towards our usual spot. Of course, I never make it all the way there, as always, because as soon as she spots me, she fucking _runs _towards me._ What is she, five?_

"Hey, Bella!" she greets me with a mega-watt smile and takes a sip of her coffee. Yeah, figures.

"Hey, Alice", is my inspired response as I fish for a cigarette to light up.

She tilts her head to the side, her spiky, black hair never losing their form. "How are you holding up?"

I shrug. She knows better than to ask me _how I was_ by now. She wouldn't like the answer. "Where's Jessica? Off with Mike again?" It wouldn't surprise me.

"No, they broke up. Again." She rolls her eyes. Why they keep breaking up since they always get back together is beyond me. Maybe that's how they get off. Their shit, their concern.

"Then?" I ask and took a drag.

"She's gone all detective mode." _What now?_ "She's off, gathering information on the new kids. You know how she gets."

Oh, I know all right. She wants to be a journalist or something and she has dirt on everyone, even the teachers. Personally, I don't mind, as long as it's not me she's annoying. When she was the first to find out the Priest's senior daughter got knocked up, she almost had an orgasm right on the spot.

I take another drag of my smoke, hold it in for a second and let it out. I'm gonna have to buy some gum later. If Charlie finds out I smoked, he'll have an aneurism. Because I spent money.

"Bella, your dad's gonna go apeshit. Why don't you just quit?"

"I don't know, why don't you just shut your face?" I answer angrily. What's her deal?

"Geez, relax. I only worry about your health. I won't if you don't want me to. It's your lungs getting cancer after all, not mine."

Worry? I faintly remember the word. I remember its meaning even less. "I know you do. Sorry." I inhale one last time, let the butt fall to the ground and stub it with my foot. Alice Brandon may be more hyper that the Energizer bunny and annoying as fuck more often than not, but she's a good friend. I revel in the fact that at least she… _worries_.

"There she is." I hear her say. I look up to see Jessica coming our way, more like skipping but whatever, her face flushed and her blonde hair flailing behind her.

"Hey, Alice! Hey Bella! How are you?" I guess some people need more than one repeat. Or they just can't take a _fucking hint_.

"What do you think?" I snap. The excitement in her blue eyes dims a little. I almost feel bad.

Almost being the key word.

"Right, stupid question." She looks down for a second. At least she's self-aware. I refrain from rolling my eyes at her and settle for doing it internally. She's a nice chick and all, but sometimes she's the stupid blonde stereotype incarnate.

"Anyway," she continues, "here's what I know on the new family." The first bell interrupts her and we start walking towards the school building.

"They just moved from Illinois and they're quite rich". From freaking Illinois? To small-ass Washington? _AND_ they're loaded? Awesome, they're gonna think they're fucking royalty. "Dr. Cullen is the new hospital surgeon and his wife is a psychologist."

Great. So far, we have Jack the Ripper -only this guy is getting paid to cut us open- and a shrink, fucking with your mind, thinking they know how you feel or what the problem is. As I said, _great_.

"What about their kids? They're coming here, right?" Alice pushes. "I heard they're twins." Who cares?!

"Of course they're coming here and they are twins, indeed." Jessica replies. Miss Stanley is on a roll today, it seems.

"It's a boy and a girl and they're seniors. Their names are Jasper and Rosalie. I barely caught a glimpse of them but I still saw them clearly. They're blond with blue eyes. Jasper's a little taller than his sister, though she's pretty tall herself, and he has short curls while her hair is just wavy. But, perhaps she straightened them a little. They also seemed to wear designer clothes, but I'm not sure."

"What about their social security number?" I deadpan. She could have sneaked inside their house for all I know. She doesn't pay me any attention.

"All in all, they look all right. I'll try to talk to them."

Alice lets out a dreamy sigh. Alice's dreamy sighs are never good. "I bet he's cute." That's just her. Curls you say? She's sold.

"That's not all, though." Jessica raises her voice slightly and gives Alice the evil eye as we walk through our biology classroom.

_My humblest apologies for interrupting you, my Lady_, I think to her as I take a seat at the back of the room, but I hold it in. if she doesn't get it all out, she'll never finish. Hmmm, perhaps that's her problem. She never _finishes_. Poor Mike.

"The thing is they have a brother!" she says all excited. She's planning on getting her hooks in him already, I'm sure. "His name is Alexander or Richard or something that sounds royal anyway and he's a junior like us. I didn't see him though." _He'd better not give me too much shit._

"You don't even know him, Bella." Jessica pipes up and I realize I said it out loud. I just don't want anyone bothering me, is that so bad?

"But," she continues and her voice drops, "you should probably be a little careful. I heard he's not as cool as his siblings. More like a bookworm." Now _that_ has my attention. I am gonna have _sooo_ much fun with him.

"Is he now?" I ask and arch an eyebrow, subtly showing off my piercing. What? It's new.

"God, Bella!" Alice whisper shouts. "What is it with you and nerds?"

"Oh, I don't know" I answer nonchalantly. "They're annoying as fuck and waste space, for one thing," I mumbled with my eyes downcast. The truth is that they don't just "bother" me. They- ugh! Something just clicks. Everything about them infuriates me. They think they are so much better than you, smarter than you, always with their nose shoved in a book. Judgmental. I have always tried to remind myself that there are exceptions to every rule and they aren't responsible for my problems, but… yeah, they infuriate me. And, if I am completely honest with myself, they intimidate me. A lot. They scare me, for some weird reason. I figure that if I can rough him up a little, he won't come anywhere near me, that he will leave me alone. He will go away before he has the chance to get under my skin. Yeah, that could work. It'll keep him away, as it should. I shouldn't have people around me. I hurt them and get hurt in return. Love and all that jazz simply don't exist. I'm done playing with fire. I did it once and got burnt. I'm not putting myself out there again. _Jesus, I'm already plotting against someone I've never even seen! Insecure much?_

"But Alice", snorts Jessica, "what did you expect from the only person on the planet who's scared of Sheldon Cooper?" she giggles teasingly. _The bitch did not…_

"Says the one who gets all wet over Ricky Nelson!" I shout. "The dude is dead since the '80s. Get over it, it's creepy." He had some nice music though. Duh, of course I won't admit it.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"Get lost."

"Go fuck yourself."

And all is good again.

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><p><strong>What did you guys think? Loved it? Hated it? Leave me some love and let me know!<strong>

**Until next chapter... **

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so here's Chapter 2! It's a little longer and reveals more about Bella. We also get to meet edward!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

First period's class drags on and Mr. Smith goes on and on about some substance in our cells I've never heard of before and how it affects our sugar levels or something. Really useful. I am sure Obama wonders the same every day.

I continue with my inane doodling as I ponder Alice's words. Why do I dislike the "good guys" so much? Surely, it isn't normal.

According to my "hardcore" appearance, as J and A usually call it, anyone would almost expect that I treat badly the easy targets, along with the metal head losers and their pathetic excuses of bikes I am supposed to hang out with. That I'd be into assholes that smell like grease and sweat, drink their lives away and adore John Bon Jovi like a god, even though they have no idea how good and soothing Otis Redding's music can be.

Hell, that's what _I_ would expect from me. But no, I have to be the idiot who falls for polite manners and gentle gestures. Thankfully, I always caught myself before I went in too deep and it blew in my face. Except twice. _Anyway…_

And then another dark, scary thought crosses my mind. Even if I did allow myself get involved with anyone, why would he possibly want to let me in? Good guys –as I tend to refer to them- don't have time for my shit. They care about their books and their studies and their new high score on Call of Duty. Nothing more. They're carefree, they don't want to put up with my shit and they don't have to. I need to accept it eventually. I simply have too much fucking baggage. My childhood had always been fucked up and that dreadful night I managed to make it worse. Not only did I kill the only person that actually gave a shit, but Charlie lost it.

Yes, he'd been drinking since forever and he pushed me around a little, but he wouldn't do anything major. _She_ would get in the way. _She_ would defend me, because Daddy Dearest would never imagine laying a hand on her. He loved her. He still does. I was always the one at fault. I was the one who never got it done correctly or in time. I was always the one responsible. And when she died because of my stupidity, I had no one to hold him back.

Perhaps I would have asked her then, while returning from that party. I had just started junior high and there was this sweet kid, Paul. I wanted to ask her what that feeling I got every time he looked at me was. I wanted to know why I felt this way and it was her who I wanted to explain it to me. Instead, I asked her to look for a second to the right. She didn't see the drunken fucker on our left. Safe to say, I never thought about Paul again.

The bell brings me back to the present. I really have to start paying attention. I will, one day. Now, off to Calculus. Fun…

~*~TBL~*~

Lunchtime rolls around and I haven't seen the Cullens yet. They must be busy with paperwork. First day and all. That is what Alice said. In my opinion, they're in the basement, installing bombs and reporting back to terrorists.

They say I'm being paranoid.

I digress.

I stand in line with my tray and wait for my food when I sense _him_ behind me and feel his nauseating breath on my neck and beside my ear. I shiver. And not in the good way.

"Hey gorgeous," he says, tracing my spine with his index finger, his voice dripping lust and want. I puke inside my mouth a little.

"Remove your motherfucking hand and you'll still father children one day," I hiss angrily, stepping away from him.

"Oh, come on baby," he whines. "We could have so much fun together."

"I sure as hell will, but only after you leave me the fuck alone, _Jimmy_. Your groupies are waiting for you, I'm sure they miss you. Get lost, Hunter."

_Pfft_, Jimmy. He might as well be called Clifford. He's a big asshole, but he follows me around like a puppy. Any girl really, still he thinks he is _the man_.

He huffs and turns around to leave, heading towards his group. "You love me; you just don't know it yet." He bellows over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to shed a few tears at your funeral, after you overdose," I call back. I haven't even completed my sentence and he is already shoving his tongue inside some redhead slut's mouth. _All yours, chica._

I turn back, facing the slow-moving line and shake my head pitifully. James Hunter is your typical high school bad boy, but not the good kind –if there is one. Dirty blonde hair in a ponytail, weathered jacket, shows up at school once a month, always reeking pot and I think I've seen him with traces of powder around his nose. If he hasn't od'ed by the time he's twenty-five, he'll be stuck here forever, running his father's grocery store.

As I said before, that's the kind of guy I'm _supposed_ to like, but I don't.

I pay for the genetically modified items on my tray, also known as cafeteria food, and sit on our table with A and J.

"Hey, Bellsy, have you seen any of them yet?" Jessica asks, her blue eyes darting across the room.

"Stop calling me fucking Bellsy!" I yell, most likely louder than I should. That was _her_ name for me. No one gets to use it. Not then, not now, not ever.

"Sorry," she smiles sadly. At least she looks remorseful. "But, have you seen them?"

"If I did, I didn't notice." I grumble quietly. I am sort of feeling bad for them. All this attention on them, they can't possibly feel comfortable. I don't know how they handle it. After the accident, everyone would stare. I involuntarily shudder.

"I did." sighs Alice. "I have history with Jasper. I swear if I didn't know any better, I'd wager he had been there himself. He looked so passionate about the subject and he's just adorable when he's concentrating! And he talked to me!"

Her voice has risen to a pitch at that point and she's practically vibrating in her chair, her bluish-gray eyes sparkling.

"No way! What did he say?" Jessica questions.

"He asked for a pen," Alice freaking _breathes_, with a faraway look on her face. She puts her elbow on the table, rests her head in her palm and stares at the door, probably willing it to open and reveal Jasper.

"Wow, that was deep," I say sarcastically, mirroring her stance. "So, when's the big day?" That girl is so romantic, it isn't even funny.

"Shut up!" she snaps and throws a carrot stick at me as I laugh. "One day you're gonna fall for someone, and you'll fall so hard, you'll land on your ass!"

"But you'll be there to rub it better, right Ali?"

"Of course we will!" Jessica buts in. I wasn't talking to her, but she'll do.

"Yeah, we got your back, sis-" she caught herself, "baby. We're here for you, no matter what." She gives me a pointed look, staring at my cheek.

Fuck. If she can tell there is a bruise, anyone can. And that shit won't fly with me.

I rise from my seat to go to the bathroom, when Alice gasps and grabs my forearm.

"Oh my God," she whispers and slumps down her chair a little. I guess I won't be going to the bathroom any time soon, so I let my hair fall in front of my face. If they see, I'll never hear the end of it and I am getting enough shit as it is.

As I plop back down, I look up to see who I assume are the twins.

Alice goes frantic. "Shit, shit, shit." she chants. "How do I look? Is my hair ok?"

"You're fine, relax." I reply, as calmly as I can.

I can clearly see what the fuss is all about. They look like models. He is tall, about 6' 3" and he has a few inches on his sister. They share their hair color, that kind of blond that borders gold and they have the same ice blue eyes. He is dressed in dark jeans and a light button down shirt and wears glasses without the frame. He looks calm and casual. His sister though is a different story. Designer jeans, low-cut top -but still classy enough- and heels that match her bag -of course- and echo in the closed room. Professional-looking makeup, professional-looking hairdo, nose held a little too up high. She's basically your everyday ice queen. _I bet she's cheerleading. Emmett will love that._

"Huh, that must be their younger brother," Jessica comments absently.

"Yeah," Alice replies, though she is still following Jasper's ass with her gaze.

I turn back to the cafeteria's double doors, curious to see what he looks like.

Fuck. Me. Sideways.

Say I'm crazy, whatever, I don't care. I'll happily admit myself, as long as he is my doctor and takes advantage of me. He is the hottest guy I have ever seen.

He walks in with his head low, so I can't see his eyes. His shoulders are hunched, but I can tell that he is as tall as his brother. He can't enjoy the spotlight more than I usually do. His hair is a little wavy like his sister's and a complete clusterfuck like Jasper's, though it looks soft. I suddenly have the urge to figure it out myself. However, the color is different, unique and warm. It isn't exactly brown, one could say it was honey-colored, but that isn't exactly it. There is more to it, kind of bronze. No, that isn't right. Almost cinnamon-y, that's the closest you can get. In my opinion, they should invent a new name. His skin is slightly tanned and clean and his straight nose isn't supporting his black-rimmed glasses very well. He has to push them up all the time, it seems. His jaw is square and begging to be nibbled on, although it is clenched. He must hate it here. _Join the club!_ His lips are full and juicy, but are set in a thin line. That is, until they part a little and his tongue peeks out to moisturize them. Hey, I want to do that!

He is lean and I can see some muscle underneath his fitted, black pullover. His stonewashed jeans hung sinfully low on his hips and instead of Justin Bieber fucking supra-tsupra shoes, he wears Converse All-Stars. _I bet he's packing._ He's like sex on legs. I _want to sit on his face. _

"Bella?"

"Hmm?" I am still looking at him. Ok, more like gawking.

"Hey, Bella?"

"What?" Now, he's turned around. _Please tell me he has more of these jeans._ They look magical on his ass.

"Bella, you're drooling." Alice thrusts a napkin in my face.

"Yeah, whatever." I don't believe her. I still check. "Sweet baby Jesus Alice, he's hot!"

"Who, Jasper?" she asks, alarmed.

"No, of course not. He's yours, you saw him first." You don't do that to a friend, it's a rule. Unless you are Jane Volturi, the school's official and copyrighted skank. Then you do it. Because you're a skank. "I was talking about Jasper's _brother_." I can't believe I didn't get to see his eyes.

"Meh, his ass is fine. But I thought you didn't like this kind of guys," Jessica murmurs indifferently, looking around. She is searching for Mike, I'm sure.

I don't reply. I am mad at her. She knows about the janitor's relatives in Colorado, but she couldn't get his name? Though, I'd still like him to tell me himself, so it is a good thing I don't know. But I am still mad at her. She said his ass is fine.

His ass is tight and spectacular. And mine. Or it will be.

_Yeah, right, wishful thinking much?_

Shut up, inner voice!

_Do I need to remind of the necessity to visit the bathroom? To, oh I don't know, cover up your bruise?_

I look down. She's right. If he knew, he'd be running for the hills.

He would never bother with me.

Too much baggage.

I still want to jump him.

~*~TBL~*~

The longer I stay in the cafeteria, the more that prickling sensation at the back of my neck intensifies.

Looking up is not an option. From all the tables in the whole room, the Cullens decided to sit on the one across from ours.

I quickly finish my food, get out and make a bee line for the back of the building. I slide my back down the wall, sit there and light one up.

I try to rationalize with myself. I make a bigger deal out of it that it needs to be. He is just another student, like anyone else. He isn't important. He is nothing to me. So what if he is tall and lean? So what if his hair is that unusual shade of copper-but-not-exactly? So what if his jaw is lickable and his lips look so soft and-

I stop myself right there. Nothing will happen, I had promised myself. I just need to be reminded of that promise. Besides, I haven't seen him all day in any of my classes. If only I can avoid him during lunch, I'll be fine.

I finish my cigarette and head back inside. The bell will ring any moment, signaling the loss of another hour or so of my life. I make a short stop at my locker, visit the bathroom to check my makeup and recently revealed tattoo, and go to my English class.

One could say it's my favorite subject. It's not like I am a straight A student, not by a long shot, but I still enjoy it. I bet he is a straight A student. _Ugh, fuck it._

I walk in and go straight for the back of the room. I pull out my book, a notebook, a pen and my paper. It isn't the best I could have done, but at least it isn't overdue this time. Surely, Mr. Parker can appreciate that.

_And if he can't, a bit of cleavage will do the job_, I think bitterly.

He is a big asshole, that one. He must be pushing fifty, still he checks out all of his female students every time one has to stand up for some reason. He'll probably end up being one of those old farts who pinch their nurses' asses. I bet his favorite book is "Lolita".

I check my sheets one last time, put them in order and make my way towards his desk. That's when I get hit. Not by him, but his stench. _Ever heard of the word shower? It's customary you do it more often than twice a year._

I take one last, deep breath -from my mouth so I don't have to smell him again- and close the distance between us.

"Here's my paper Mr. Parker," I tell him coldly and place it in front of him. He picks it up and puts it carefully in his briefcase.

"Miss Swan, the deadline is in two days." He looks up. "I'm impressed." He is totally checking out my rack.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and clear my throat. Loudly.

"Eh, what can I say? I actually want to graduate next year."

"Eager to leave, aren't we, Miss Swan?" Is he for real? Just let me go!

"Like you wouldn't believe." I smirk back.

"Won't you miss us? I mean this town."

"No, I actually hate you. I mean this place." He scowls. My smile grows bigger. I turn on my heel and go back to my seat, as the room starts filling up. I make an extra effort _not_ to sway my hips too much. I don't want him fixating on them. He's totally read "Lolita". Too bad I'm not twelve. And I don't want to fuck him.

Five minutes later, the door rushes open just as the last bell is about to ring. I don't bother to lift my head. _Another late student_, I think. Big mistake.

"Aah, Mr. Cullen, right on time." Professor Parker greets him.

I look up to see him sign something. I assume it is his slip. He's supposed to return that to the reception at the end of the day.

"Here's the list with books we're reading this year. Go take your seat." He pushes up his glasses and thanks him.

I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning out loud when I see him walking lithely, messed up hair and all, towards… _me_?

Only then does it dawn on me that the only seat available is the one next to me. Gah, seriously?

_Calm down, Bella, calm down. Stick to the plan. Just ignore the Adonis right fucking beside you, as planned._

Yeah, ok, I can do that, easy enough. I will just have to ignore the Greek God and all his sexiness for the rest of the fucking year.

Easy enough… not!

The fine hairs at the nape of my neck stand at attention. I feel the temperature rise, my pulse starting to race, my palms sweat. I am on the verge of hyperventilating and he hasn't even approached me yet.

I try once again to calm my shit down and give myself a pep talk. It's fine, everything's fine, no reason to worry. He's just another stud-

But my attempts are all in vain, for as soon as he sits down next to me, I am done for.

For an unknown, unexplainable reason, I feel myself gravitating to him. I suddenly have this overwhelming need to lean towards him, to feel him close to me.

As he deposits his stuff on the desk, I angle my body a little more to the left, possibly to the point it would be deemed uncomfortable, but still subtle.

The more I stay in this position, the more I feel his body heat radiating from him. And don't get me started on his scent. So sweet and yet spicy. He smells of sandalwood and curry. Perhaps an iota of nutmeg is thrown in there, as well. It is so warm and cozy and… just him.

I sit back up straighter in my chair as he, too, turns to look towards the blackboard.

F_ocus, Bella, Jesus! You can't afford to do that right now. Remember Felix? Or the asshole that followed up, Jared?_

Doing the same mistake again would just be plain dumb. Still, something tells me this guy right next to me will render me stupid.

~*~TBL~*~

Time ticks by, second by agonizing second, and I am growing more and more agitated. Class is almost over and he still hasn't talked to me.

_Isn't that what you want? Or what you _should_ want, anyway?_

Shut up!

Mr. P -for either Parker or Pervert- is about to announce our assignment, so I reach for my pen.

Adonis -as I call him in my head- does the same though, so he accidentally knocks mine over with his pinky, resulting in it landing between our chairs.

We both try to grab it, so it doesn't come as a surprise when we bump our foreheads together.

"Fuck," I whisper, rubbing it with my middle and ring finger.

"Oh, God," he exhales. He picks up my damn pen and puts it back on the desk.

"I'm s-sorry; I didn't mean to do that. Are you alright?" he stutters. Good Lord, I couldn't have scared him that much, could I?

"Relax, it's okay," I assure him as I turn to look at him. "It was my fault anyway. I'm fine." I conclude automatically, though as I look at him up close for the first time, I immediately regret the words as I say them. I am not fine. I am perfect. Correction; _he's_ perfect. My God, his eyes!

They are nothing like I have ever seen before. Not exactly teal, not exactly emerald. It is the most amazing in-between color ever. I could solely relate it to that particular shade of the sea when it's sunny, the water is clean of seaweed or sand and you've gone somewhat deep and you try to look down. I can feel myself getting lost in them, deep and liquid, surrounded by thick, dark lashes.

I then realize that we have been staring into each others' eyes for far too long and I quickly blink away. I see him, out of the corner of my eye, doing the same and muttering to himself.

He is probably thinking that I'm a freak for staring at him. Or that I need contacts. _Thank you, Captain Obvious!_

Jessica says they're "classically brown".

I say they're plain and look like shit.

Whatever.

"Hey," I call, "um, it wasn't just me who bumped his head," I say as I start gathering my things. "Are _you_ alright?" I ask, standing up.

"Oh, um, yes, yes," he stutters again, running a nervous hand through his unruly hair. "I'm fine, thank you."

I nod. Ok, I wink, too.

"Just say it," I hear him mumble. It doesn't make any sense though, so I don't stop to look back at him. But I want to. Badly.

I am just out the door when I hear rapid steps behind me.

"Excuse me, um, Miss?" I turn around to see him running in my direction, holding my notebook in his hands. Shit, I must have left it behind.

"Err, you forgot this," he says in a rush and practically thrusts it in my hands. He looks extremely tense, but I couldn't have possibly caused that. I haven't done anything to him.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out and sticks his hand out. "I'm Edward Cullen, one of the new students. Pleased to meet you."

I stare at him for a second. My eyebrows have reached my hairline at this point and if it wasn't for my makeup, my cheeks would have been crimson. His voice is so smooth and rich, completely different than before. It is deep but not harsh, like honey. I also go over his name in my head. Edward. Jessica was right. Wasn't that the name of one of Christopher Marlowe's plays? Edward III? Or was it Shakespeare's? Fuck if I know for sure. Still, it sounds nice.

I must have stopped for longer than I thought, because he mistakes my pause as rejection. His face falls a little; he lowers his hand and starts fidgeting.

"Right, so I,… uhm, I just thought that, well, since we'll be sitting together for the rest of the year, I mean, I figured it was proper, and necessary of course, to introduce myself, and yeah…" he rambles and chuckles uncomfortably, pushing his glasses up his nose again, while he waits for my dumbstruck ass to snap out of it and give him a response.

"No, you are right," I rush to assure him and raise my hand for him to shake. "It's Bella, Bella Swan. It's Isabella actually, but everyone calls me Bella."

He grasps my small hand in his and shakes it. A little clammy, I notice, but still soft. "Nice to meet you, Miss Swan."

"You, too," I respond. He tries to retrieve his hand from mine. The dude seems anxious as fuck. I can easily tell as he runs his hand _once again_ through his auburn hair and shifts from foot to foot. I can't take it anymore.

"Oh, come on," I groan, startling him. "Look, I haven't killed anybody, nor have I ever made fun of any old, crippled ladies. So, why do you look like you're about ten seconds from pissing your fucking pants?"

"No, um, it's not…" he stammers.

"It's not what?" I ask and nod my head to the side, indicating for him to follow me.

He huffs and tightens his grip on his bag straps, walking beside me.

"It's just that well, at lunch-" _oh, fuck me,_ "-this girl, she said she's Jane, came to sit with me and my siblings. She said that since we were new here and didn't know anyone, she wanted to give us a heads-up." _Huh?_ "She told us who the good kids are, the bad ones, the jocks, you know." I motioned for him to go on. "And um… she… uh…"

"She what, Cullen?" I notice a barely-there smile. "Spit it out, I won't bite." Smile, gone.

"Well, the thing is that she pointed at you when you were leaving the room and made sure we understood that under no uncertain terms were we to come anywhere near you. Sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but she probably doesn't like you all that much." He snickers humorlessly. I see red.

"That fucking bitch!" I shout, making him jump out of his skin. I turn abruptly to the right, and since we are walking by the bathrooms, I drive my sneaker-clad foot straight into the door. "Την παλιοπουτάνα," I grumble, too low from him to hear. I should have worn my combat boots today. The satisfaction I get from hearing the frightened girls' screams doesn't last long. "Fucking slut. Don't listen to her. She's had so much cock her brain doesn't function correctly anymore. Fuck her."

"Yeah, she mentioned something about your temper." For his own good that wasn't meant to be heard.

"Well, fuck you," I tell him. "Who do you think you are, anyway? You come here and you think you know me just because some skank gossiped about me for two seconds? Newsflash, pretty boy, she's only trying to fuck her way into your puffed up wallet. Good luck with getting rid of _that_." I sneer and storm off, leaving him behind me.

"Wait, Bella. Wait!" he hollers as he runs for a minute to catch up with me. I ignore him. "I didn't mean it like that! You think I don't know all about high school's _terms of endearment_?" That makes me slow down a bit. I can relate to that. The name-calling can go from teasing to down-right torturing.

"What do you mean?" I look up at him. He's almost a foot taller than me.

"Really? Come on, look at me! My siblings look like models and I was BFF's with the school's librarian. And she is almost sixty. Everyone would call me _Nerdward_ instead of my real name. Some didn't even _know_ my real name!" His voice suddenly drops. "Trust me, I know about labels."

I am stunned. I didn't really know he had it in him to yell, much less at me. But I know what he is talking about.

"Well, I've been the 'Black Widow' around here ever since- um, for like, five years."

"What happened?"

"Something."

"You won't elaborate, will you?"

"Nope." And I left it at that.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation: Την παλιοπουτάνα = That fucking whore. it's Greek, I'll explain later.<strong>

**Please reveiw, whether you liked it or not.**

**Until next Chapter... **

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ugh, winter break is over and I'm already tired of school. Anyway, here's Chapter 3.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Three<p>

We have reached the school parking lot, when I decide to make conversation. Not that I want to get to know him or anything. _Riiiight_.

"So," I start chewing on my bottom lip, "where did you come from?"

He looks surprised, almost alarmed. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Just curious."

"Um, we used to live in Chicago, Illinois. But mom sort of got tired of living in a big city her whole life, since she was born in Brooklyn. Plus, we have some relatives in Seattle. So, we came here."

"Coming to live to Forks must be a big adjustment, especially in March, the middle of the year. I bet you hate it here." I shake my head.

"Why would you think that?" he asks.

I shrug. "_I_ hate it, and it's all I have ever known."

"I like it. It's more, I don't know, quite, I guess."

He doesn't talk more than that. I guess something happened in Chicago and he was all for the move, but I can't be sure. We continue walking in a comfortable silence.

So comfortable I am weirdly almost annoyed when it is interrupted. We have reached my car, when he starts talking again.

"So, um, I was thinking, we have this project and-"

"What project?" I interrupt.

"Didn't you hear what Mr. Parker said?"

I stifle a laugh. "Honestly, I never do. But today, I was a little preoccupied, bumping my head with yours." I give him a small smile.

He snickers as we reached my baby.

"Anyway, we have this project on Romeo and Juliet, so I was wondering if we could sit down and work out a schedule or something," he finishes, eyeing my car. "You know, a timetable, a course of action... Something," he shrugs.

"All right," I respond indifferently as I climb in. He stares at me dubiously. "Are you gonna come in or what?"

"Wh-where?" he stammers. "In your car?"

"Don't worry. I'm an excellent driver." I try to play it off by winking at him, but if only he knew why I am so meticulous, he would never step a foot inside the damn car.

"Oh, um, it's not that. I just, um, I drove my siblings here, so they won't be able to leave if I were to come with you. Their cars haven't arrived yet." _People actually still talk like that? If I were to come with you? Anyway…_

I give him an incredulous look. "Well, why don't you give your keys to your brother and sister to drive your car back?"

All color drains from his face. "Are you nuts?" he screams. My eyes widen in amusement and my jaw drops a little.

"Oh…, um…, I'm s-so sorry, I-I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just that it's new and…"

"I'll tell you what." I get back out of the car and start searching my bag for my Camels and a lighter. "You ride with the twins," I balance the cancer stick between my lips, "and I follow you." I cup the lighter and light it. "Then, you drop them off and come with me to my place to plan something out." I take a deep drag and let it out. "What do you think?"

"Err…" he falters, his eyes darting everywhere.

"What?" I decide to mess with him a little. "You're afraid of my knowing where you reside?" _Ha, take that!_, I think to him. _I can use difficult syntax, too. _"Don't worry, I won't tell." I pinch my forefinger and thumb and run them over my lips in a "zipping" gesture. "Not a word." He seems genuinely nervous. _What's up with that?_

"Ok, if you don't mind. Just let me go tell Jasper and Rose." He looks hesitant.

"Sure, go ahead. Besides, I need to know what car I am following, right?" I smile and inhale my smoke.

"…not that hard to notice." He mumbles again. What is he scared of? _Talking?_

"Hey, Edward?" I try to get his attention as we walk towards a crowd of kids.

"Yeah?" he pushes his glasses up again.

"What's with the whispering and mumbling? Speak up."

"Oh, um, I don't know. I just… do it." He looks down at me through his long lashes. "Does it, does it bother you?"

"No, not at all. Hell, everyone has weird traits. But I should warn you, I can still hear you. It just doesn't make any sense."

"Great," he mumbles again and starts making his way through mentioned crowd.

"Where are you going?" I ask, confused.

"My car," he shrugs.

"Ok." I stub out the cigarette's butt. And then I whistle loudly.

"YOU FUCKERS ARE IN MY WAY! MOVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN." I seethe, internally laughing my ass off because of their startled faces. Maybe I'm not as useless as I initially thought. I can scare _some_ people. Not the one I want to, though. "You heard me. Not in the mood today, assholes." I growl. Kind of. Not really.

They finally get the fucking memo and the crowd scatters.

However, when I get to see the actual car, I could've used a notice of my own.

"Fuck me," I blurt out.

"What?!" he turns around to look at me alarmed.

"Edward, are you fucking shitting me? You're driving a fucking Aston Martin?!" I exclaim astonished. Who is he, James Bond or something?

"Oh," he looks down. He looks almost… disappointed. But thankfully it doesn't last long. "Yeah," he smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck. "It's an Aston Martin V12 Vanquish, actually."

"Yeah, well, that's too long for such a beauty. Find something else. Dollface or something." He seems a _little_ taken aback by my exuberance. But I have never seen an Aston Martin before. I certainly have never heard of a fucking teenager being the owner. So I cut myself some slack. "Where did you find this sex on wheels anyway?"

"I got it by my parents as a delayed birthday present, three months ago. And I only drive it on special occasions. Since it was my first day here, I figured…," he trails off.

"Now I understand why you didn't want to let your siblings touch it. I would forbid them to even think of it." I examine it closely. "Who the fuck buys their kid a fucking Aston Martin for their seventeenth birthday?" I wonder aloud as we wait for his brother and sister to emerge. "I got a fucking T-shirt." I grumble.

He smiles crookedly, amused. "My parents, apparently." He leans lightly against the driver's door. "But it was my eighteenth birthday, if it's any consolation. I got really sick around September when I was six. Chicken pox seriously sucks," he chuckles. "So, I started school at the age of seven."

"Cool," I comment absentmindedly, not really knowing how to respond to that. Considering the fact that I am still seventeen for the foreseeable six months, I am a little intimidated. But in a good way, like challenged. Older usually means more mature, doesn't it? "No wonder you're-"

"A nerd?" he interrupts me, his eyes hard.

"…smarter. I only meant to say _smarter_. Since you were older and shit. I bet you rocked first grade." I lightly bump my right shoulder with his left.

"Not really. I only started studying intensely in junior high. In primary school, I was just another average student."

"How come? I thought, with your age…"

"It may mean nothing to what you're asking, but it is generally known that the younger a child is, the easier the brain absorbs information. For example, haven't you ever encountered little kids? They can say something they heard only once, who-knows how long ago. And still, they remember. Whether they know what they say or not, is a different story." We both laugh at that.

"Impressive, I guess." I muse. Then something completely irrelevant hits me.

"Um, Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Aren't Jasper and Rose eighteen, as well? They're seniors, right?"

"Um, yes they are. But their birthday is in early October, October 7th to be precise. As I said before, I was born in June, June 20th. I was premature," he grimaces.

"Uhhh, now I get it." I make my "thoughtful" face as I hear steps approaching. "You're a 'tequila party' case!" I proclaim, excited.

"A what?" he asks dumbfounded.

"You know, it's when a couple has a baby, and they leave it for the first time with a grandma or something, and they go out, drink, get completely shitfaced and then forget the rubber when they fu-"

"Ok, I got it, I got it," he cuts me off, panicked. "No need for the mental image, thank you very much. Very creative, though. Your explanation, I mean. I always wondered. I figured something similar out when I hit puberty, but I hadn't put too much thought into it. Ha, 'tequila case'. Good one." He snickers.

"Thanks." I roll my eyes, but laugh, too.

I look up to see Edward's siblings watching us carefully.

"Um," Jasper hesitates, "everything all right, Eddie?"

I choke on my own laughter. But, come on, that is golden. "Eddie?" I sputter, desperately trying to keep my lips sealed.

"I've told them not to call me that," he sighs. "Even the term 'little brother' sounds ridiculous. We have the same age."

"Yes, but barely," his sister teases him. "We're a whole lot of eight months older, little brother," she shoots him a stern look.

Edward shakes his head and looks down, but his face seems amused and I see a barely-there smile on his lips. "Tequila case," he mouths and his smile widens. That means _I_ put it there. Cue internal fist bump.

He clears his throat. "Anyway," he turns to face them, "Rose, Jasper, this is my English partner, Isabella Swan. Bella, this is my sister Rosalie Cullen and her twin, Jasper."

"What's up?" I greet her.

Rose sizes me up, literally _scanning_ me, or rather, the way I look. I am sure she is wondering why the fuck I _dare_ to stand close to her. Bitch.

"Uh, good?" Jasper replies, though it comes out like a question. At least he is trying.

"What is _she_ doing here?" asks Rose. Yeah I figured that would be her reaction. That didn't take long.

"Wow, bitchy much?" I cross my arms in front of my chest.

"Excuse me?" Her eyes bug out. I guess she didn't expect me to talk back to her. And I promote her to mega-bitch.

"You heard me. I'm not gonna eat you. So what if I'm here?" Fucking prejudices. They're only based on the person's appearance.

She turns to Edward. Yes, Edward. He's far too gorgeous to even think of him as Eddie, for fuck's sake. The name reminds me of a boxer. The dog, mind you.

"Didn't you hear what that girl said at the cafeteria? She's bad news." She throws me a glance.

"Great, so you're judging me based on what some slut told you about me. You don't even know me." Is she for real?

"I have no reason not to believe her," she shrugs unapologetically. "You _look_ like bad news." Did you hear something dropping? It must have been her fucking manners.

"No, you have no reason to _trust_ her. She's always spreading rumors. So, you're not safe either, by the way. Plus, she hates my fucking guts."

"What did you do to her?" she quirks a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"I fucked the guy she was after," I smirk. "Turned out, I did her a favor. The dude wasn't worth shit in the sack. I dumped his lousy ass." _After he used and left me. Nice. Fucking Jared._

"And you still insist on not being trouble?"

"Right, because you're such an innocent, virgin girl," I mock-baby talk.

She huffs and turns her head to the right sharply, effectively whipping her hair.

"I knew it," I smirk.

"Anyway," Edward interjects, clearly annoyed hearing about his sister's virginity. Or the lack thereof. "We have a project together," he continues more calmly, "so she'll follow us and then I'll go to her house to work."

"Are we going to come and pick you up?" jasper asks.

"No, I'll drive him home myself for his nap time before it's too late. He won't wander unchaperoned the dark, cold streets." I roll my eyes.

Edward takes a deep breath. "Shall we get going?"

"Yeah, I'm right behind you," I holler while running back to my car.

When I get there, I jump right in, dump my bag in the passenger seat, put the key in the ignition and drum my black fingernails on the steering wheel as I wait for them to pile in.

Finally, his _glorious_ car's lights flash and he takes off. I turn the key, but it only grunts and the sound isn't pretty, not at all. I do it again and this time it works, but only for a second. I see the speedometer's needle slightly perking up before it drops back down again. "Fuck!" I scream to no one in particular. What did I do wrong? Is it the gas, the oils, my fucking luck?

I look through the windshield to see Edward waiting for me by the parking lot entrance to get started. I take a deep breath, cross my fingers, wishing that three is indeed the charm and try again. Thankfully it works this time. "Ha!" I exclaim triumphantly and take off, following Edward.

~*~TBL~*~

His house is kind of away from school, nearly out of town and into the woods, but not too far from mine, so my house is in the middle of the distance. I pull up in front of it, as it stands big and proud, while Edward drives through the garage door and goes to park inside.

The house is awesome. The exterior isn't like these disgusting "modern" buildings, all cement and weird shapes and no finesse. It is rectangular and very symmetrical with big windows. It is painted a very soft gray and its clever use of timber blends perfectly with the forest in the background. A few steps lead you to the glass door and bushes are planted along the driveway, which ends at the garage door. I didn't even know we had such houses here.

The front door suddenly bursts open and slams shut again and a panting Edward comes out, running towards me.

"I'm sorry," he pants, "you wait-" he clears his throat, "were you waiting too long?" he asks more firmly than before.

"No, it's okay," I assure him as I walk back to the driver's seat and get in. "Nice house you have here," I comment as I put my seatbelt on.

"Oh, thank you." He looks back out of the window.

I shrug and turn the key. Only, this time, it doesn't start at all. I try again and again, but nothing.

"Motherfucking piece of shit!" I screech and get out of the car, stomping to the front. I pop the hood open but I can't make out shit, which only feeds my rapidly growing frustration. I throw my hands in the air exasperated and kick the left front tire_. I can't fucking believe I broke it down._

"Um, Bella, what's wrong?" Edward questions perplexed, also getting out of the car.

"That little shitty tin won't fucking start," I yell. "I don't fucking get it. I don't even know what the fuck I did to it!"

"Well, you sure have a colorful vocabulary when you're pissed," he chuckles.

"_Well_, fuck you," I shoot back. "And believe me, I'm not pissed yet."

"Maybe," he takes a tentative step in my direction, like trying not to upset an angry animal, "maybe it's not your fault."

I stare at him, confused. "What the fuck are you talking about? I drive it, I ruined it. Of course it's my fault." Another thing to the fucking list. "It always is," I whisper, too low for him to hear.

"What I meant is that it wasn't something you did. Your car is, um…, relatively _not_ new. It broke down. That's why they keep making new ones, you know. So you'll buy one when the car you already have is no longer running. It's not rocket science," he smiles cheekily.

"It doesn't work that way," I sigh. I close the hood and hop to sit on it, putting my elbows on my knees, my head hung low.

"I'm going to fix it. I have to fix it. I can't afford not fixing it," I whisper. I screw my eyes shut to keep my tears at bay. _I can't keep ruining stuff_, I think. I can't take all this… guilt. But _how_ could I fix it this time? I don't know the first fucking thing about cars -except how to drive it- and I can't spend any money. He freaks out every time I buy a fucking chewing gum. Just thinking how he'll react about the car…

"Hey," Edward murmurs softly and comes to sit beside me. "You don't have to buy a new car. Maybe changing a wire that has broken or something will suffice," he tries to reason, in an attempt to encourage me. He failed.

"Can't do that either," I grumble and push my ass further up to keep from sliding off. "I don't wipe my ass with hundred-dollar bills like you, you know," I mock.

"It's not my fault though, is it? I didn't ask for it," he snaps, suddenly looking tired. What's his deal? I decided to worry about that later. I had a bigger fish to fry.

We maintain our positions for a few minutes, me thinking and trying to figure something out and him thinking… something else.

He suddenly huffs, pushes up his glasses and runs his hand through his messy reddish-honey colored hair. "Ok, I think I have a solution."

"About what?" I ask, not bothering to look up.

"Your car," he says slowly, a "duh" tone lacing his velvety voice. "What if I had my sister take a look?" he proposes, evidently proud of his idea.

I hesitate. "I don't know. Does she know anything about cars? I don't want her fucking it up any further." I chew on my lip, uncertain. For all I know, she could mess with it on purpose.

He looks distracted for a second, but he composes himself rather quickly.

"Well, she's not an expert and she definitely isn't a professional," he rolls his eyes, "but she's pretty good. She's tinkering on her own whenever she can, so she might be able to give you an idea as to what's wrong. She may even be able to fix it for you."

I go over that for a second. "And what's it gonna run me?" I narrow my eyes, giving him a sideways look, and start assaulting anew my poor lip.

He looks confused and scratches his neck. "Come again?"

_I haven't, that's the problem_. But I couldn't exactly tell him that. Instead, I say "I mean how much it is going to cost me."

The perplexed look remains on his face. "Uh, nothing," he shrugs.

"I can't do that, Edward," I shake my head. "I'm not a fucking freeloader. And I barely even know your sister!" I point out.

"Okay," he exhales impatiently, "how about this; fixing cars is just a hobby of hers, not her actual profession. You don't have to pay her for something that isn't her job, do you?" He has me there, smart-ass bastard. A hot, smart-ass bastard, I give him that, but a smart-ass bastard none the less.

I think about his suggestion for a second. Chew on my lip for good measure, too. What he said makes sense. She won't help me with a murder or anything. She will simply help to "pimp my ride" -gotta love Xzibit. Yeah, ok, I could live with that.

"All right, I agree," I relent. "But only if you promise it won't mess with her free time or something."

He chuckles and hops off the hood. "It'll be fine. Here," he extends his hand towards me, "let me help you down. Then we can push it inside the garage. There's a spare spot."

I hesitate for a second, but eventually take his offered hand and let him assist me. Of course, I hop with much more force than necessary and stumble into his hard chest. _He's muscular and he smells SOO good._ I refrain from nuzzling my nose against him.

"Hey, easy there," he murmurs softly and grips my arms gently to steady me. "Are you ok? I didn't realize I pulled you so hard."

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," I answer a little dazed. I escape his embrace and brush nonexistent dust off my jeans. "And it's my fault, anyway. I knocked into you. I'm sorry," I apologize sincerely.

He waves me off. "No blood, no foul. Come on, you'll grab the steering wheel and I'll push from behind," he instructs and moves to stand behind my car.

I couldn't help it. My slight giggle bubbles out of my mouth, uncontainable. "You'll push from behind, huh? You wanna reconsider?" I ask between my chuckles.

His cheeks tint pink. "I guess you're right. That was a bad choice of words. But it did get my point across, didn't it?" he quirks a thick eyebrow as he gets into position and starts pushing.

"Yes, sir, it did. No need to go all defensive on me. I didn't mean to insult you." As I grip the steering wheel tighter to lead my car inside his garage, I wonder. Why did I feel this sudden urge to explain myself to him? Last time I did that I was thirteen. It's weird and I struggle futily to come up with a plausible explanation. Yet, I can't avoid the fact that just the thought of a misunderstanding between us disheartens me. I don't want him to blame me for anything; I don't want him to think I have done anything wrong.

A few grunts from Edward and crude remarks about "pushing it real good" from me later, we manage to maneuver my truck into its temporary place.

"There it is, all set," he exclaims.

"Thank you about that," I tell him sincerely.

"I have to admit," he starts as he sweeps at the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, "you didn't quite strike me as a 'Salt 'n' Peppa' kind of girl, "he grins, amused.

"Trust me," I push my sleeves up a bit, "you would be surprised with how much I don't let show."

"Like what?" he takes an unconscious -I think- step closer to me.

"Let's see," I decide to test him. "Have you ever heard of Jerry Lee Lewis?" So far, I am the only seventeen year old I knew to answer that question positively.

"Puh-lease," he mocks and mimes a hair-flip that just _screams_ Rosalie. "I can play 'The Great Balls Of Fire' with one hand."

I burst into laughter again. "I'm sure you do," I get out between gasps. I cradle my stomach and lean against the car-door frame.

He stares at me as if I need professional help. Oh well, perhaps I do, a little. My mind did go straight into the gutter, after all.

"Come on, Edward," I give him a pointed look.

And then it hits him and he starts laughing as well. His laughter is beautiful and melodic and… since when do I do such descriptions? "I guess I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

I can only nod. First he says he would "push from behind" and now that he can play someone's balls with one hand? Sorry, but he had it coming.

"So," I clear my throat and make sure I have no black tears running down my cheeks, "when is your sister free?"

"Let me think," he muses for a second. Cupping his chin and all. He runs his hand through his sun-kissed/honey-colored looking hair, too. "If you're lucky, we'll check it out this weekend."

I freeze. "We?"

"Yeah," he shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. "I help her sometimes."

Suddenly, my mind is assaulted with images of him fixing my car. Tousled hair in complete disarray, an oily wife beater, torn jeans hanging deliciously low on his hips, his All-Stars and a tool kit by his feet, while he is crouching over my hood and pushing his glasses up, looking pensive.

Of course he has his glasses on, that goes without saying.

He is frowning and swiping at the beads of sweat that have formed on his forehead. And then he reaches to touch something, causing his wife beater to ride up which reveals his ass dimples. And God, his ass! I just want to… grrr, grab it!

And after he fixes whatever is broken, he closes the hood, puts me on top of it and fucks me. Hard. Whatever, it's not like I'm a virgin, don't judge.

In the meantime, real-life Edward is trying to get my attention for the past fourteen centuries by waving his hands in front of me. That was what he did first. Now he is yelling. And sort of belly dancing.

"'Yoo-hoo, Bella? Earth to Bella, are you there? Over.'"

"Shut up!" I interrupt somewhat annoyed.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry," he apologizes. "But seriously, I've been trying to get your attention for God-knows-how-long. What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," I blush. "Nothing of importance."

He doesn't seem to buy it, but he doesn't push.

"So, uh, should we get going, then?"

"Where?" I ask, confused.

"I told you, we have this project…," he trails off.

It hit me then. No, no, no, no, NO! "Um, what time is it?" I ask and start chewing on my lip.

He checks his phone. Sorry, his _iPhone_. Figures. It's 4:30 p.m. Wow, time flies."

"Yeah, I know," I respond. "Sorry, we can't go back to my place. It's, uh…, late. My dad will be home soon." If he finds him there, it won't be pretty.

He looks a little disappointed, but he is quick to hide it. "If you don't want me in your house, it's okay. We can just do our parts and then mix them together."

_That's not what I meant! _"No! What the fuck are you talking about? We'll just have to rearrange, that's all," I reassure him. "Tomorrow's good," I offer. _Eager much?_ "We just lost time with my car and talking and shit. We can go straight home. As long as you leave before 5:00 p.m, we're cool."

"What's wrong with me being there?"

"Dad's… strict," I answer vaguely. Yeah, "strict" didn't begin to cover it. "Anyway, I should get going." I turn to leave.

"Wait." I pause to look at him. "Um, how are you going to get home? Is it close?"

"Not really, but I got it," I wave him off dismissively.

"Would you, uh, want a ride?" he asks sheepishly. "I can't let you go alone. Plus, I'm a pretty good driver," he repeats my words from earlier and winks.

"Okay, if you don't mind my grace being in your car…"

"No, no, it's okay. I want you. I mean in my car. No, that came out wrong. I mean I want to give you a ride. It's not like I'm dying to get back in the house. Not that I'm using you, I just-"

"Jeesh, take a chill pill, Edward. Being inside an Aston Martin is hardly a hardship."

"We won't take the Aston," he furrowed his eyebrows.

"But?"

"Bella, I told you, it's new. I only drive it on special occasions. I still have my 'every day car', if you want." He starts walking to the other direction of the garage.

"What is it?" I inquire.

"Here," he says nervously and presents me with a Volvo S60R.

"Are you being serious right now?" I gape at him.

"Why?"

"How many cars do you have? It's not like they're cheap!" I exclaim.

"Don't worry, that's about it," he chuckled. "Now, if you want to see _all_ the cars my family owns, you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"Nah, I'm good. Besides, drooling wouldn't be really nice, would it?"

"Would do you mean?" he questions.

"Never mind. Just give me a second to get my bag." I run across the garage to get it and back to Edward. I move to the passenger seat. "Let's go."

"Oh, right." He rushes to my side and opens the door for me. Oh, ok, that's… I didn't see that coming. Unexpected, but good unexpected.

"Thanks," I blush again and get in. Thank God for makeup.

"No problem." He gives me a slightly crooked smile and closes my door.

He runs to the other side and slides in the seat. Though the exterior is silver the interior of the car is black leather and very comfortable.

"Alright, let's roll!" I say.

"Where to?"

"Just go back the way you came. We actually passed it earlier."

"Ok then," he says and puts the car on reverse. "Off we go."

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><p><strong>Please review! <strong>

**Until next chapter...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is a little shorter than the previous ones, because I have a lot of exams. Seriously, it's wearing me down. So, I'm updating a bit sooner, because who knows if I'll have any time later?**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Four<p>

A few minutes later, after a relatively quiet journey, he is pulling over in front of my house again. This is the third time he picks me up for school, since my car is in his garage. It's not that bad. His company is uh…, _tolerable? _He stuttered a little when he offered to drive me, but I needed him, and he, um, yeah…

~*~TBL~*~

"_Here we are," he smiles and exits the car to open the door for me._

"_Thank you again. You didn't have to do that."_

"_Don't mention it. And, um, since you're in my way and um, the twins will go to school on their own tomorrow, what would you say if I gave you a lift?" he looks at me… hopefully? I hesitate for a second. "It's really not a problem," he reassures me and leans against the car door._

"_Ok, thank you. But," I warn him, "you can't park here. Wait for me around the corner, okay?" I point at him the spot I meant._

"_Why?"_

"_Because. Deal?"_

"_Yeah, okaayy," he agrees without conviction, dragging out the last word._

~*~TBL~*~

Before I can open my door, he's out of the car and opening it for me. I try really hard not to blush. "Thanks," I mutter.

"You're welcome," he smiles crookedly. "So, we're starting our project tomorrow?" he asks. "All we did yesterday was read two chapters," he smirks.

I nod curtly, almost smiling. You can't really concentrate when you're talking at the same time. "Until tomorrow then," I say, not making any move to leave.

"I'll be there," he promises, looking unwilling for our time to be over, too. A quick glance at the car's clock, though, tells me it is way later than I thought. Charlie will be here any minute.

"I gotta go inside," I say hurriedly. "See you tomorrow!"

"Sure!"

"Ok, bye," I wave over my shoulder as I run up the porch steps and inside the house. I close the door and lean against it, sliding to the floor. The torturous seconds that pass until I hear his car departing are the longest of my life.

No sooner had ten minutes passed; I hear another car pulling in, its tires screeching to a halt. _Fuck_, I think. _Dinner isn't ready yet. _I scramble to my feet to get to the kitchen.

The door opens and closes with a loud thud. Heavy steps stomp on the hardwood floor, coming closer and closer until they reach me in the kitchen.

"What's for dinner?" he demands with a gruff voice and takes his holster off, dropping it on the counter.

"Um," I hesitate, "I thought we could go simple today. I'm preparing Mac and cheese."

"And what exactly did you do all day to make you tired enough that you couldn't even prepare a proper fucking meal?!" he asks, his voice gradually rising. "Did you work? Did you sweat? All you had to do was walk a bit and change seats! That's it, damnit!"

"I-"

"Whatever, Bella. Don't make up lies. You're just a lazy, useless kid. You're a teenager. Wasting space comes with the territory," he huffs and takes off his shoes. "At least, try not to burn it, though it wouldn't surprise me if you did. I'm starving."

"It'll be ready in two minutes," I reply quietly with my back to him, refusing to let him see the tears brimming in my eyes.

_Useless kid…_

_Wasting space…_

I sigh inaudibly._ One more year and a half and then I'm gone, _I think.

After I serve him and we eat in silence –well, I barely touched my food but, whatever-, I retreat to my room. That's as far as our interaction goes today. Lucky me.

I change out of my now loose-fitting clothes, sit at my desk and go through my homework. And then I say "fuck it". I can't concentrate for shit. I get back up and go to the bathroom.

Opening my make-up kit, I wipe my face clean and then wash it along with my hair and body in the shower.

Squeaky clean, I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my wet body and a smaller one goes on top of my head. I look in the mirror and inspect my cheek. Not too bad. The bruise will be completely gone in a day or two.

I go back in my room and lie in my bed. I reach for my phone and, plugging my barely-hanging-there ear buds in, I let Van Morrison's voice wash over me. Sure, I enjoy Aerosmith, Rolling Stones, Black Sabbath, anything that qualifies as rock really -save for that freak Marilyn Manson- but that kind of music is solely reserved for my alone time.

As the singer expresses his desire to _flow into the mystic_, I go over everything that happened the last three days.

Mr. Edward Cullen swept me off my feet, that's for sure. He's funny, smart, gentle… There is no point in denying it. I would be lying to myself. Somewhere deep inside me, a little fairy-like voice is screaming at me to keep my distance. That it is for the best. The best for him.

_Useless kid…_

_Wasting space…_

And that is where the problem lies. This time I know I would be fine. This time my heart would be intact, because Edward is a sweetheart. I am safe, I _feel_ safe with him. Jesus, I only met him on Monday! But that is neither here nor there. I know my father my whole life and I've never felt completely at ease around him. The point is that I am fucked up well beyond repair. Sooner or later, I'll drown. Even if I left, Charlie made sure I have realized I would never make it out there on my own. Where would I go? How would I live? I'll drown and wishing for the opposite is hopeless. The least I can do is not to drag him with me.

He already caught a glimpse of what is to come if he keeps being around me. Why the fuck couldn't he park in front of my house? Because Charlie would see him, that's why. He'd also see the shiny car and that the car's owner has a dick. It's easy to imagine what would happen. He'd scare Edward away and then he would bust my ass. Whore, slut, all those beautiful, tender words fathers should call their daughters.

Funny, because Edward's money is the last thing on my mind. Matter of fact, it is the opposite. His wealth intimidates me. But, it is put aside rather easily.

I care about his eyes more. Sweet baby Jesus, are they even real? _Of course they are you dipshit. Why would he wear glasses, if he had contacts?_

Good point. But, God, they are gorgeous. So liquid and expressive. The brightest aqua marines with emerald flecks all over, especially around his irises. Equal quantity of both colors mingling together, creating the most spectacular result.

But what if I never see them again? Logically, I know that's impossible. I will see him again tomorrow, right? He said he'll be here. But what if he regrets that promise? He simply will not show up. And even if that was the case, we are English partners. Surely, I would get to see his quartz eyes again. And maybe, just maybe, I would get to satisfy my need to touch him again. Just thinking about it, my fingertips are prickling, eager to come in contact with his chest as he engulfs me in his arms. Even if it is to keep me from falling. Even for one moment, I'd get to feel his body heat again, his hands on my arms.

The same hands that torture his wild hair relentlessly. The most amazing reddish-honey colored hair of all time. And there are a few brown wisps thrown in there, too. They are messy but still looked soft, sticking up in all directions but beautiful in its own way.

I decide to capture his beautiful face on paper. I haven't done it in a long time, almost a year. But my memory is only human and I won't remember him perfectly forever. So, I will get started now and finish it before he figures out what is going on in my life and starts running away screaming.

Opening the bottom drawer of my bedside table, I take out my sketchbook and my pencils.

First, I need a frame. Then, it's his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, straight nose and juicy lips. Then his eyes. Big, bright, framed by thick, long eyelashes and again by his black-rimmed glasses. Picking above those, I draw his eyebrows. Well shaped and full, they are in perfect harmony with the rest of his face. I leave his hair for later. It'll be pointless to draw a specific shape, anyway. I am sure they have been run through countless times already and it has only been what? Two hours, three?

I check my clock and… holy shit! It's close to midnight. I completely lost track of time! Quickly, I hide my sketchbook and utensils. I also take my ear buds out and stop the music. I wasn't paying attention to it, anyway. A quick glance at the screen tells me I'd been listening to the "Great Balls Of Fire". I chuckle quietly. I love J.L. Lewis and all but what were the odds?

I switch the lights off and settle on my left side. And then on my back. And then on my right side. And then on my left again. I am tossing and turning for an hour. Finally, a fitful sleep claims me around 1:20. When dreams do come, I am not all that surprised to see Edward starring in them.

~*~TBL~*~

_Tuesday…_

"…and then he's like 'What, Scott? What, what?'" We're both laughing so hard, holding our cookie filled bellies and tears running down our faces. "And then he got stabbed in the back and everyone was cheering!"

"God, I love their boss! 'You two sons o' bitches are going to college!" I'm giggling like crazy.

"I can't wait for the sequel. We should see it sometime," he suggests. "If that's okay, of course," he adds.

"Yeah, sure. You bring the movie and I'll make popcorn," I propose and we shake hands.

"Hey, let's see some Family Guy before going back to work."

"Ok," I agree, discreetly pocketing my phone.

_Wednesday…_

"Hey, I have an idea," I tell him, putting my half-finished plate of spaghetti on the coffee table."I have this movie, um, directed by this Zeffirelli guy? You think we could include that in our project?" I ask. "It's kind of old, but… I don't know…" I trail off.

"That's not half bad," he responds excited. "Put it on, let's watch it!"

I bend down to open the DVD cabinet below the TV and I hear Edward groan throatily. He must enjoy his pasta, I guess.

_Thursday…_

"_Hey, is something wrong_?" Yes, but how do I explain?

"Um, yeah, you see you can't come over tonight." I motion to Mrs. Newton that I'll be right there. She nods and helps a costumer.

"_What happened_?" He sounds sad, but I don't dare to believe that it's for the same reason I've been a moody bitch all day.

"Nothing. Just, my dad will be home and, you know, he'll be tired. Um, I don't wanna disturb him," _or have him shoot you_.

"_Oh, uh, all right_," he answers dejected. "_Tomorrow's still on though, right?_" he asks hopefully.

"Yeah, totally," I hurry to assure him. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," I smile to myself.

"_Okay, okay_," he chuckles. "_See you tomorrow at school, Bella_."

"Bye, Edward."

"_Goodnight._"

"Have a good one."

"_You, too_."

"See you at school."

_Click. _

I sigh and make it to the front of the store.

_Friday…_

"Oh, shit, oh shit, don't fucking go in there you stupid bitch!" I yell, pulling and tugging at his sleeve, causing some of his popcorn to spill out of the bowl he's holding.

"Bella, could you _please_ stop moving? Your whole couch is shaking," Edward sets the bowl down on the table and tries to calm me down to no avail.

"But look at her, going all alone in that deserted hotel. Something's going down in there, I just know it."

"Calm down, nothing's going-"

I cut him off with a shrill shriek. The asshole starts guffawing.

"It was only a cat, Bella," he laughs.

"Whatever…"

_Tuesday…_

"So basically, Romeo couldn't have fucked up his life any more, even if he tried."

"There were certain circumstances that ensured their failure. Their relationship was doomed from the beginning. But let's try to express it a little more formally, okay?" Edward tries to placate me.

"What do you mean? I express myself just fine!" he gives me a look. "…when I want to," I add, mumbling. I take a deep breath. "What do you propose?"

"We could have an introduction of Romeo's and Juliet's characters, so we can base our opinions of their later actions on that. I also suggest that you get us some more of that ice cream you made. It's addictive," he adds, smiling shyly.

"Coming right up," I jump up to fetch it.

_Wednesday…_

"I like Al Green, too, of course. But my favorite is Marvin Gaye," explains Edward.

"Really? Do you have a favorite song?" I ask, genuinely intrigued.

"Um, yes," he blushes. "It's the one with Tammi Terrell, 'Ain't no mountain high enough', and then there's the classic 'Let's get it on'."

"Yeah, you gotta love those songs," I muse.

"What about you?" he asks and takes a sip of his orange juice. "Do you have any favorites?"

"Sure. I really like Otis Redding and I love 'Hard to handle'. I listen to it all the time," I say excitedly. "Too bad they're all dead."

"I know, right?" he shakes his head. "At least Al and 'The Killer' are still standing. It's something," he murmurs. "Now, back to Juliet."

"Ugh, way to kill the mood, man." He chuckles.

_Thursday…_

The second sketch is finally done. It took me a bit longer, since it's more complicated, but I think I did well. Charlie's downstairs and the television is blaring. He won't bother me for a while.

I stare at my creation. This time it's not a portrait. Edward's on my couch, glasses discarded, his hair fucked up and his tongue peeking out to lick his lips as he concentrates hard on our project. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up and he has a pencil behind his ear. He also has a five o' clock shadow. Bending towards the table, his hand is a little outstretched, seemingly reaching for his mug of chocolate. No tea for us. If we're cold, we drink fucking chocolate. I try to think of a way to give it to him without being conspicuous or stalkerish.

"Bella, when's dinner ready?" Charlie hollers.

Recess is over. Back to work.

_Friday…_

"I have a feeling this policewoman won't last forever," Edward murmurs and hugs the couch pillow more tightly to him. I would have made fun of him, but I'm currently squeezing the shit out of his bicep, so I just pull the blanket up to my chin. We're huddled together on the couch, lights out, our feet tucked beneath us. Who knows what might bite them off if we let them dangling? Right?

Right.

"You think?" I mumble and chew on my lip.

"She's a horror movie side-kick, Bella. Helping a mother find her daughter in a haunted, little town," he says softly against my hair and rubs my arm up and down. "She's bound to die."

A triangular-faced monster and its growl have me ejecting from my spot and landing on Edward's lap, who is currently screeching like a girl.

"What-what is that?" he pants, trying to get his breathing under control and hugs me tightly to his chest.

"I have no fucking idea, but I hope it burns in hell," I whine and rest my forehead in the crook of his neck.

~*~TBL~*~

_Fuck, I think I'm seriously crushing._

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><p><strong>First things first. The movies I'm refering to are: <strong>

**"21 Jump Street"**

**"Romeo and Juliet"**

**"Gone"**

**"Silent Hill"**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please review!**

**Until next chapter...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello,hello! Finals are over, chapter five is up! I just wanted to say that this chapter comes with a tissue warning! Maybe you'll need it, maybe you won't. Consider yourselves warned anyway.**

**One more teeny, tiny, little thing! Please leave me some words and tell me what you think of my story! I'm not above begging. It's really important to me. **

**Oh, and a special thanks to my little sister -whose name I'm not going to reveal- who bothered me while I was trying to write. :P**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Five<p>

I stand in front of my full-length mirror and scrutinize myself. Usually, I don't give two fucks about how I look. But on these Sundays -the second Sunday of every month-, it has been my ritual for the past five years. These Sundays are her days. Therefore, I am meticulous with my appearance.

My long, dark brown hair cascade in waves down my back, stopping at the middle, my purple and black streaks standing out. Not wavy enough to be curly, but still. It is annoying me. Purposefully. Yes, my hair bothers me on their volition. It isn't completely straight like Alice's, so I find it difficult to straighten it. But, it isn't easy to curl it, either.

I sigh. My hair-dryer and curlers will have to do, though I rarely use it. I can't exactly go to Charlie and ask money for a flat-iron. Or that other iron that makes hair all curly and shiny. Or is it the same thing? Fuck if I know. _She never got to show me._ Perhaps I can save some money and get one myself.

My face is clean of makeup for once, my skin ghostly white, as usual. My eyes have no eyeliner to draw attention away from the mundane color. They are plain and dull. They look like two tiny pools with stagnant water. They are "wet ground" brown, boring and ordinary. Nothing special about them, just like the rest of me.

My lips, colorless too, are asymmetrical with my small nose and narrow chin, with my lower lip being way too big to match my upper one and always chaffed, because of my habit to bite it. Last but not least, I have rid my face of the piercings, except the one on my eyebrow, because it is still fresh.

I adjust my bra and straighten my black skirt over my hips. They used to be a bit on the wide side. Not overly so, but still. I've noticed a drop in my weight lately. I'll rectify that… later. I have never really been fond of my body, but I guess I will have to work with what I have. After I make sure I have everything I will need, I set out to go to the cemetery.

Once I reach her, I lie the flowers I just bought her on the ground, I spread the blanket I have brought with me and sit down, supporting my back and shoulder blades against the headstone.

"Hey," I greet her in a quiet voice. "God, I don't know where to begin," I chuckle. "So much happened in a month." I look up at the sky, take a deep breath and close my eyes, shutting the rest of the world off. "I could always start with that party I went to three weeks ago. Yeah, that day sucked. Dad got pissed at me because I had the music too loud and when he pushed me I flinched, because my ribs were still sore from the tattoo. I'm okay now, by the way. It looks awesome. No one interesting, my buddy didn't have what I wanted and the beer was disgusting. I wonder if you drank at all. Nah, you were too good for any of that. But, anyway, when I got home, dad kind of slapped me. Don't worry, it was gone by Wednesday. He never got to do that when you were around," I sniffle and wipe a stray tear.

"But, hey, I've got good news, too. You see, there's this guy that moved here. I know, I know, who the fuck moves voluntarily to the buttfuck of nowhere that is Forks? Well, his family did. And I'm thanking my fucking luck. Or maybe I should thank you, who knows? He's great. His name's Edward and he is eighteen. His mom is a shrink and his dad is a luxury butcher. That's golden, right? He also has two siblings, same age. He's a 'tequila party' case. Remember? His brother and sister are a little hard to warm up to, but he's… he's amazing. He hasn't told me I'm a freak of nature yet. He accepts me, despite the way I look or talk. We have English together. I guess you could say we're friends now. Talking with him is easy. He would come over almost every day after school for two weeks. We had this project due last Friday, on this dude you liked so much. Personally, I don't get. Make sure she's dead first, commit suicide later. That's the correct order, people. Anyway. Thank God, he was there to help with the project or I would have failed. We dug up your old movie, too. We so rocked that assignment thing. Next time I see Mr. Pervert, I'm gonna shove that A- up his fat ass," I giggle. I crack my neck and stretch my legs out in front of me, still keeping my eyes closed.

"I had to come here on foot today," I continue. "My car broke down. I'm not sure what I did to it, but Edward promised they would fix it and have it ready by tomorrow." I push myself up a little. "They, as in, Edward and his sister. Oh my, can you imagine him all oily and dirty and sweaty? I wanna lick him clean all over. Yeah, well, you can't really imagine him, since you didn't get to meet him. Or you already know about him from up there. I know you would never stop watching over me. I have a photo of him in your phone, just to be on the safe side. I'm not going to pull out the cell and start showing the screen to your stone or towards the sky or anything. I haven't lost it that much yet. But I like looking at him. Whenever Dad yells so loudly I'm afraid he'll damage his vocal cords. Or mine. By cutting my throat, you know. Or when I'm lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling and think of how I've fucked everything up. I look at his face and I can practically feel myself being pulled back from the brink of insanity, which is cheesy as fuck but whatever. I took it on Thursday, the first day he came home." I smile ruefully at the memory.

"We were in the living room, taking a break and eating orange cookies. We were watching TV and he was laughing. He looked beautiful. Not sexy or hot. Well he was those things, too, but he was beautiful. He had taken his glasses off and his head was thrown back. Beautiful I'm telling you." I sigh. "And the better he turns out to be day by day, the more my resolve crumbles.

"At first, I wanted to keep my distance, you know? I didn't want to jeopardize him or fuck him up. Drag him down with me. But when I'm with him, I feel like he's having the opposite effect on me. He lifts me up. Jesus, I'm barely smoking around him. He comes off as shy and timid, and he is. But once he opens up," I shake my head, eyes still closed, "He's a whole different person. He's light and fun and he knows the best 'Yo Mama' jokes. Emmett loves that. They have a little bromance going on. As long as he approves, I'm okay.

"Oh, speaking of the devil! Emmett has the hots for Edward's sister, Rose. Hopefully, he'll warm her up some. It's not like she hates me, but yeah, I'd appreciate having her on my side you know? Jasper on the other hand… Rose's twin and my best friend Alice are a thing. And he's completely pussy whipped.

"Come to think of it, I haven't met their parents yet. Should I? What's the protocol for these situations? Is it too soon? But I'm not like his girlfriend or something. You think I will be?" I bang the back of my head against the stone.

"I'm in uncharted territory here. So far, I've managed it on my own. But now it's different. I'm not alone, there's Edward at stake and I'm flying blind. I don't want to hurt him, but I haven't had actual relationships before, either. I was barely of age to know the first thing about this when you died. I need fucking guidance. I don't know how to deal with all this high school shit, either. Outsiders say it's just 'high school drama', but this shit is tough. I punched Volturi in the face the other day. She was running her mouth to Edward's siblings, talking shit about me. What else could I do? At least I didn't get suspended. Thank God Charlie was not alerted. What would you do?

"God, I miss you. I miss you so much, every day and more. There's always this little something I don't know how to handle and I'm sure you would. But I guess I brought it all to myself. It was my fault you died. You were trying to pay attention on the road and I distracted you." I start crying, my still closed eyelids no longer able to hold back the tears.

"I'm so sorry. This was all my fault. Everything has been my fault. I'm sorry!"

"Bella?" I can hear footsteps coming closer.

"Bella, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" _Edward? _Huh. _Well played, Ma'am. Want introductions already?_ I open my eyes slowly and look up at him. My eyes adjust to the sunlight, a rare occurrence in Forks.

"Hey Edward," I smile tiredly up at him. No wonder he had a hard time realizing it was me. He has never seen me without make up before. "How did you find me?"

"I was driving around, trying to get to know the neighbor better. And um…, I saw you. You're not sitting too far inside and uh…," he scratches his neck, "I noticed your hair. Here," he offers his hand.

I take it and manage to hoist myself up without running into him again. Pity. "Thanks."

"So, uh, are you visiting-" he checks the inscription, "Caroline often?"

I dust my black skirt off and straighten my black blouse with my free hand. "Uh-huh." I study the inscription.

Caroline Helen Swan

Beloved Daughter & Sister

1992-2009

"Carrie was my sister. She died five years ago."

"Is that when they started calling you 'The Black Widow'?" he asks thoughtfully.

"You remembered?" I ask sheepishly while blushing.

"Yes, of course," he smiles. I am sure he has noticed my heated cheeks by now, but he doesn't let on.

"Um," I hesitate, "it will sound weird and you have every right to feel awkward and think I'm a freak," I chew on my lip, "but how would you feel about… uh, meeting her?" I ask nervously. _See Carrie, I'm trying._

"I would never think you're a freak, Bella," he murmurs and stares at my chafed lips for a brief second. "And I'd love to be introduced," he flashes a lopsided grin.

"You're sure? I don't want you to feel obligated or-"

"No, no," he reassures me. "It'd be an honor."

"Okay." I take his hand and urge him to stand in front of her. Edward doesn't let go of my hand. _How do I interpret that?_

"So," I take an unnecessary breath, "Carrie, this is Edward Cullen, my English partner and friend. Even though he's a complete bookworm, he's not that hard to tolerate." He elbows me slightly in the ribs. "And Edward, this is -was, I don't know- Caroline Swan, or Carrie, my sister." _There, satisfied? And uh… do you approve?_

"So, I guess that's all for now. See you next month," I tell her and turn to leave, still holding on Edward's hand. Or him holding on mine. I am not sure.

Then I remember. "Ooh, one more thing," I exclaim and halt my steps. I turn back to face her. "Mrs. Newton called. She changed my shifts a bit but it's still the same hours. I'll go after school and get off at seven. Tuesdays and weekends are my off days. _Now_ I'm done. See ya!" I refrain from waving. That would be weird.

"Come on, let's get out of here," I tug on Edward's hand and lead him out of the cemetery, still holding hands. I am not letting go as long as he isn't.

"So, no more scary movie nights on Fridays?" he teases. It has been a routine of sorts. On Fridays, Charlie is working a double shift, so Edward comes over and we watch horror movies together, while stuffing our faces with pop-corn.

"Nah, we're still good. Plenty of time," I answer. I don't want to lose our nigh- Our?! Fuck.

He steers us to the direction of his car and holds the passenger door open for me to get in. he rounds the Volvo and gets in too, behind the wheel, fastening his seatbelt...

"Where to, Miss Swan?" he asks me.

"I don't know, Mr. Cullen. You're the one driving," I smirk.

He suddenly looks shy. "Would you like to… um, I don't know, go to the, uh…,"he pushes his glasses up, "p-park with me?" he looks up at me expectantly and nervously through his dark, long eyelashes.

Because that's what he does. He's all timid when he wants to ask or say something he's not sure how it will be received. He pauses and trips over his tongue. Then if you take more than five fucking nanoseconds to answer, his nervousness kicks in and he starts rambling and trying to justify himself. Don't get me started on his hands. They work overtime. They go through his hair, fix his glasses, scratch his neck or pull at his sleeves.

And sure enough, I am proven right. I pause for all of three seconds to take a breath, because I hear breathing is important. Still, his insecurities make him feel the need to explain himself.

"It's okay if you don't want to," he starts. "I mean, I know I'm not the best company. I start talking and talking and talking and I don't know when to just shut up. I just thought that we could take advantage of the nice weather and it would take your mind off your sister. Or you could talk to me about her. I really want to know. Was she nice? Did she teach you how to cook and bake? Because you can make some mean cookies. We can get some ice cream, too. It's on me. It doesn't even have to be a date if it makes you feel uncomfortable or you simply don't want to. We can enjoy the sun nonetheless, just two friends. That's okay, too. And we-"

He would go on and on, unless I stopped him with an answer. Fucking cute. However, this time I interrupt him with a question of my own, because out of all his little speech, only one word stuck.

"You meant going to the park as a date?" I ask shyly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. This must be the first time I ever say something shyly to him. I blush, too.

"Uh, yeah," he answers, his eyes on the road, alert. That's good. "Do you want to go out on a date with me, Miss Swan?" he asks, more firmly and formally.

This time, I don't need a tree-second pause. I answer right away.

"I'd love to," I chew on my lip. God, I'm such a girl!

"Shit, really?" he looked surprised and excited. I love that look on him.

"No, I'm kidding." I give him my mastered "duh" look to let him know I was kidding. "Of course I do."

"Okay. Great!" he takes a deep, calming breath and turns on the radio. We end up listening to R. Kelly's "Bump 'n' Grind" and I surprise the hell out of him when I start singing along. I have decided to drop the façade in front of him, especially now. He asked me out on a date_. _Now I'll have to show him all of me, the real me._ Am I doing this right, Carrie? I don't want to lose him._

Soon, he joins in and we both start moving and wiggling as best as we can, given the fact that we are seated and strapped in. but I don't really give a shit that I look ridiculous as fuck right now. I'm far too giddy for that.

I have a date Edward Cullen.

~*~TBL~*~

In less than fifteen minutes, we are at the park. Well, the only park here in Forks, therefore it was packed. Nice weather and all. Edward parks the car a couple of blocks away and before I can reach for the door, he is already there to open it for me and offers his hand to me to get out.

"Thanks," I smile up and look at him from under my lashes. "Opening doors, treating ice cream… You're really going all out, huh?" I observe while walking by his side, heading for said ice cream, as the clouds slowly but surely roll in.

"Oh well," he shrugs as if he isn't visibly nervous and grabs my hand again. "I want to do everything right. It is our first official date after all," he winks. "Or," he looks at out laced fingers, "my first date, anyway. I'm playing this by ear, so give me some credit."

"Whoa, wait!" I jerk his hand to stop him. "You've never been out on a date before? Like, ever?" I ask incredulously.

"Is that so hard to believe?" he snorts.

"Uh, yeah! Excuse me if I'm being too straightforward for a first date, but dayum, you're _the_ shit. What were those girls smoking?" I exasperate a bit to make him feel better.

He laughs through his nose. "Really, Bella? Come on," he motions for me to get moving again. "You said so yourself when you introduced me to… uh, Carrie. I'm a nerd. I have my face shoved in a book. Yeah, chicks don't dig that. They'd rather be with Jasper. He's like a 21st century stoner, except he doesn't smoke weed. Laid back and up for anything. Just because you can appreciate some Motown music and tell the difference between old school R'n'B and Beyoncé R'n'B, it doesn't mean that anyone can."

I shrug a shoulder. The left, because my right hand is otherwise occupied. Holding Edward's left hand.

"Well, their loss, my gain. As far as I'm concerned, they can go fuck themselves." Charming, I know. "Besides, I'm hardly a catch." I turn to the guy behind the register at the ice cream van. "A cone of mixed soft ice cream. Thanks."

"Uh, make that two," Edward adds and hands over the ten-dollar bill he took out of his wallet. "What do you mean?" he asks, resuming our conversation.

My turn to snort. I take the ice cream cone and thank the cashier, then make my way over to a nearby bench, resting my back against the shop wall.

"Seriously, Edward?" I grimace and cross my legs. "I'm what parents' nightmares are made of. A bad student with a bad attitude, foulmouthed, bad clothes, I drive a car made back in the Triassic era, I have black-dyed hair, facial piercings, and guess what? I have some ink, too," I'm almost panting. "So, yeah," I sigh and lick a bead of ice cream that's trickling down the biscuit cone.

Edward's eyes are big as saucers and dark. Could it be because he liked something I said? More than one thing? _Yeah, right._ Still, a girl can dream. He suddenly clears his throat and shakes his head a little.

"I didn't know you have tattoos, Bella," he tries to sound indifferent, but fails miserably.

I smirk. "Yeah, sure," I answer as if it's no big deal and eat my cone.

"And uh…, how did you get them? It's illegal to get inked before you reach adulthood. At least, I think so. The artist could get in trouble with the law."

"Nah, it's okay. I went to La Push to get them done. I know a guy. I needed a tat, he needed the money. It worked." I look at him. "I can hook you up if you want," I wink.

He gets a serious look on his face. "Did you have them for recreational reasons or is there a story behind them?"

I frown slightly and look down at my ice cream, eating some of it. And a little more. And one more bite. And then it's gone. I suppose I have to answer him.

"Yeah, there is a story. But it comes with a tissue warning."

"I told you I'm here to listen, Bella. Shoot," he encourages me.

"I loved my sister, still do. She took care of me and I idolized her. She'd be twenty two today. She would have studied Marketing with her boyfriend in UCLA. As far as I know, he's still there. Anyway, I was twelve and invited to a party. A masqué party. I didn't have a costume, so I let her dress me up. When she was done with me, it was like the 60's left me behind. She curled my hair, fixed my 'pin-up girl' make up and lent me her kitten heels. It would be my first time in heels. She's the reason I like that sort of music. Or why I only listen to it when I'm alone. Well, besides you," I chuckle.

He smiles softly my favorite crooked smile and urges me wordlessly to continue.

"There was this boy at the party, Paul. He was Zorro," I roll my eyes. "He was a little shy, but still cute. I didn't know how to approach him. I thought I'd talk to him at school, but I wanted Carrie's opinion first. I figured I'd tell her while going back home. So, she came and picked me up. We were on the road. I wanted to ask her but hesitated. And then-" My voice breaks a little and I take a deep breath.

"Then?" Edward urges me on.

"I saw this weird old guy through the windshield. He was dressed ridiculously and wore the ugliest Mad Hatter's hat of all time. So, I reached over and poked Carrie on the shoulder. 'Hey, Carrie, look at that dude over there'," I mimicked my own childish voice.

"That's all it took," I sniffle and wipe my cheeks. "I distracted her and she didn't see the asshole that ran smack into us. Next thing I remember, I woke up in a hospital bed, wearing a god-awful hospital gown. They said she died on impact," I murmur. Edward clasps my hand between both of his and starts rubbing gentle circles on my knuckles with his thumb. "I guess karma knows its shit, because it didn't leave me unpunished. It took two surgeries to get my feet to work again and one more to fix my cracked pelvis. At least I don't have any problems now. I'm good as new. So, I got a butterfly tribal tattoo above my ass and dragonfly on my left hipbone to hide the surgery scars there. Recently, I got one more. That was more for her than me but, I don't know," I shrug a shoulder. "I wanted to have her with me everywhere." I ramble. "Do you think I'm pathetic yet?" I chew on my lip.

He shakes his head negatively and scoots closer, hugging me to his chest.

"I know that whatever I could say you've already heard, but," he takes my face between his large hands, brushes my tears away with his thumbs and looks at me straight in the eye. "I'm sorry for what happened to you. And since I can do nothing to change things, I'm here for you now. You want to talk, call me. You want to complain, call me. To cry, to scream, to talk about something completely irrelevant and take your mind off things, it doesn't matter. Call me, okay? I promise to be there."

"Okay," I whisper shakily. Asshole. Making me feel all emotional and shit. _Don't cry, don't cry, DON'T FUCKING CRY!_

He pulls me closer and I lay my head on his shoulder. Who would've thought? Me, the ultimate social outcast, out on a date with the hottest –though unaware- guy I've ever laid eyes on.

I consider feeling angry because of how he's making me feel. I had my whole life planned out. I'd endure two more years of school and then I'd pack up and go as far away as possible. Screw Charlie- I'd make it work. But now, all I care about is getting Edward to want to spend more time with me. And I think I am on the right path.

"Bella?"

"Hmmm?"

"May I ask you one more thing, please? If you don't mind, I mean." _Ever the gentleman._

I tilt my head upwards to face him. "You do know you're gonna have to spill the beans later, right?" I cock an eyebrow.

He looks downcast. "I know," he pushes his glasses up and then looks at me, "but I can't help wondering." I brace myself for the question I know it's coming. Honestly, I'm surprised he hasn't asked until now. "Where is your mother, Bella?" there it is. "You've never mentioned her and well, when I saw you back there, I sort of figured you were there to visit her. Since that was your sister, where is your mum?"

I turn my head away from him and look back in the direction of the cemetery.

"You know you can tell me, right?"

"I know I can," I look back at him wistfully, "but I won't."

"Why? I thought-"

"I do trust you," I cut him off. "I just can't talk about this yet. I will when I'm ready, okay?" I huff and tuck a stray lock behind my ear. "Besides, that's enough from me for today. First date and you have not revealed anything about your past, besides the fact that you're an Al Capone descendant and large enough to buy me a whole ice cream cone," I mock sarcastically.

I guess he doesn't take it this way, though, because as soon as the words are out of my mouth, he jumps off the bench and glares at me, all the while pulling and tugging at his hair, too.

"Holy fucking shit Bella, really? Are you fucking serious right now? I've… Ugh! I've tried my best, opening doors, being there for you, listening to you, comforting you! I've done everything I could to prove to you that I can be a nice guy. That even though you're way out of my league and under usual circumstances you'd rightfully call me a dork and make fun of me, you can stand being in my presence. So, I thought I'd seize the opportunity given to me, you know? Because I like you, quite a lot. Your face, your voice, your wit, your opinion on matters, that I can hold an actual conversation with you, all of it. And all you can say you notice about me is that I have enough money to buy you shit freely? That's just," he huffed and sat back down, burying his hands in his hair, "just _fucking_ great," he finished. _Okaayy_.

I have to admit his dirty mouth is not as sexy when he's actually pissed at me. _I'm kidding, he's totally hot. And he likes me, quite a lot!_

"Um, Edward?" No response. "Edward, could you look at me for a second?" still no response. "Please?" I tried again.

That seems to get his attention and he lifts his head. His eyes though… no, I don't like what I see. He looks downright depressed, as if he's given up hope and I don't understand why, but I make it my mission to wipe that wretched look off his beautiful face.

"Hey, what's with the sad face?" I ask concerned and cup his cheeks with my hands. He t45ries to turn his head, but I hold him firmly and force him to look at me.

"What is it, Edward? Please, tell me. This hasn't happened only once. Something's going on. What triggers this? Triggers you?"

He sighs and his shoulders hunch. He looks defeated and… it feels wrong. He's supposed to be happy, always. My carefree, sweet nerd. That's the only look I accept. This one is just _wrong_.

But the more I think about it, the more I can see a pattern. He always gets riled up and snaps when I bring up anything money-related. His nice house, his two cars, his expensive clothes, his iPhone, his watch, the goddamn ice cream! Everything. With a sharp inhale I turn to look at him.

"You didn't leave Chicago because your mum got sick of it, did you?" I inquire quietly. He doesn't have to answer. His silence is all the confirmation I need. What the hell happened to him?

* * *

><p><strong>I was kind of anxious about uploading this, because that's what I've been waiting for the whole time! It's been builting up and builting up and finally I got to write about it! I really hope I didn't disappoint anyone. If I did, you know what to do! (Yes, I'm begging again. I told you I'm not above it.)<strong>

**Until next chapter...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the slight delay of this chapter, but it was my nameday yesterday, so I didn't get any time to update. I still have no reviews from you guys and I'm starting to think there's something wrong with my account. Anyway, I'm grateful you at least read it. So, thank you! **

**For this chapter, I had to write about something I consider myself lucky to be unfamiliar with. Physical abuse. If it offends you, or if it seems too fake or anything, I apologize in advance. I tried to make it as realistic as possible. The tissue warning still stands, whether you needed it last time or not!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Six<p>

He closes his eyes and sighs once more, leaning his head a little against my palm.

"I know it'll sound lame," he whispers and lifts his head, "but it's not you," he smiles briefly at me before frowning and looking ahead. "Or maybe it is. I'm not sure. It's just- I wish you would see more than that. Beyond that. What is so important about money, anyway? It ensures a comfortable life, I admit that, but that's it. It won't give you happiness. That comes from the people surrounding you. I would never call myself ungrateful. I thank God every day for what we have, but… Let's just say that you have a lot of friends when you can afford something better than Old Navy. Funny part is, I love Old Navy," he laughs humorlessly through his nose. "But that's neither here nor there. See, when I was little, I didn't have such problems. All the kids had more or less the same toys, and if they didn't, they hadn't noticed. Things changed in Junior High. I started getting shoved by the jocks or the 'cool group'-" he made air quotes, "would make fun of me, because I was a little lanky. Eric could only do so much to protect me. I started hiding in the library so they would leave me alone. That's how I started studying and reading so much. I never went out, out of fear. I envied my siblings for being so popular, but I wouldn't dare hang out with them, or anyone, really. I found solace in solitude. But then I got a friend. And another, and another. I started feeling accepted and supported, that I counted, somehow. Turned out, they only wanted to bleed me dry. At first, I didn't think anything of it. Everyone forgets lunch-money and it happens to have to chime in, so that your friend will buy these nice shoes he saw the other day, right?" he turns to look at me.

"So you started giving them money?" I ask, cringing.

He nods. "At the time I was _lending_. They weren't big amounts. I thought 'it's okay. We're friends'."

"They didn't get back at you, did they?"

"That's not the point, Bella. They could have it all, for all I cared. They still can. When I caught up to them and went to Dad, he said '_the word_ no _is a blessing, son. It's okay to use it'. _So I did. Next time they asked me to lend them money, I said no. they asked why, so I said I wasn't making them, or that my parents didn't give me or that I already spent them. The main event took place a few weeks later. We wanted to go out. They were joking that it was on me and were laughing, but I could tell they meant it. So, I lied that I didn't have any money on me, so they could pay me back by buying me food." He sighs again and looks down, sadder than before. My fingers instinctively reach up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He leans back and purrs softly. I fail miserably at hiding my smile. But I can tell there's more.

"So, what happened?" I inquire softly, without taking my fingers off his soft hair. He head lolls to the side.

"I could go into details, but I'll save you from all the gory details. Bottom line is, after that I became the wallflower I am, living in my siblings' shadow once more. That night I ended up with no friends-"

"Bastards," I growl. "How fucking exploiting does a person have to be to do something like that? You were only a child! Hell, so were they!" I exclaim.

"-and," he continues, ignoring my outburst, "in the hospital with a cracked eyebrow, a black eye, a split lip and a few bruised ribs," he smiles sadly.

"What?!" I yell and jump off the bench. How could they? How could they do this to him? Edward, the kindest, sweetest person I've ever met. He's gentle, funny, he's never judged me, he speaks of his family with respect –something I value immensely, considering that everyone says "my folks this" and "my old man that". How did they stomach hurting him? I don't even know those little shits and I want to cut their fucking balls off and then make them eat them! Taking his money is one thing –though horrible- but hitting him is another. Plus he used plural. How many against one? The more I think about it, the more upset I get.

"Hey, hey, Bella?" Edward stands up and cradles my face. I'm still fuming, walking up and down with clenched fists. "Look at me," he smiles crookedly and wipes the angry tears I didn't realize I've shed.

"Sorry," I sniffle.

"No worries. But honestly, don't cry. They're not worth it. I've gotten over it. Besides, it happened a long time ago."

_Yeah, about that…_ "So, what drove you out of Illinois?"

He takes a step back. "You wanna tell me about your mom?"

"No." the answer comes out reflexively, more defensive than I intended, before I can stop it. I smile sheepishly.

"Then no. Some other time maybe." Then he laughs softly. "We sure come with baggage, huh?" he shakes his head.

"And still, you don't know have of it," I smirk.

"Ditto, honey," he taps my nose. "So," he sits back down, "what's your favorite color?"

I narrow my eyes at him and tilt my head to the side. "Speaking of…?"

"… Wanting to change the subject. Smooth, I know. Whatever." He shrugs. "I like light blue. What's yours?"

"Um," I chewed on my lip, "I haven't really thought about it." I pick at the hem of my skirt. "I really like purple, I guess," I blush and duck my head.

"Hmmm, interesting. Okay, next. Birthday?"

"It's my turn to ask, you know?" I scowl.

"I do, but you know my birthday _and_ the story behind it-" _ha, 'tequila party' case_, "-when I don't know yours," he smiles cheekily.

"You have to wait for six more months for my birthday."

"September?" he guesses.

"September 13th," I confirm.

"You'll turn eighteen, right? That'll be awesome! We can throw you a party or something. Or we can go out and celebrate." His smile is radiant but turns self-conscious quickly. "I mean, if you want to go out with me again, even though we're talking about something six months away. This date has been kind of depressing," he grimaces.

"It was more like eye-opening, I think. And I'd love to go out with you again," I reply sheepishly. What is it with this guy, turning me into a shy, blushing schoolgirl? Well, I guess I do go to school, but, anyway.

"Good," he smiles. And then his grin widens. "It's on me."

"Funny, funny you."

~*~TBL~*~

**Favorite gift? –B**

**My first bike. I still have it lying around somewhere. You? –E**

**I have this really big, stuffed bear next 2 my bed. 3****rd**** b-day gift. –B**

I'm not really sure how long I've been lying in my bed, texting back and forth with Edward. Just exchanging information. My thumbs are starting to hurt, but so are my cheeks from smiling.

**The thing you probably don't know about me is that I'm half Irish. I can't speak a word, but I am. –E**

**No shit. –B**

**I beg your pardon? –E**

**I didn't know it, but I guessed it. Have u seen ur hair lately, ginger boy? –B**

**Good point. –E**

**Have u ever been 2 Ireland? I've heard it's awesome! –B**

**We go once every year for St. Patrick's Day. It's fun. What about you? –E**

_Tell him, don't tell him. He'll ask, I want him to. Will I regret this? Yeah, probably._

**I speak Greek. Sorta. –B**

**Really? –E**

**Ναι****. That's 'yes', btw. My sister taught me. **** –B**

**How come your sister even knew Greek?**

**My mum knew –B**

**Oh. :/ Well, that's actually pretty cool! Will you teach me? Like, little words and stuff? *crossing fingers* -E**

**Idk, what do I get in return? –B**

**My endless gratitude? A trip to Ireland? Anything. And cut it out with the abbreviations! :( -E**

**K. C u 2morrow skool. –B**

**Goodnight Isabella. (I'm using my serious voice, by the way.) –E**

**Ooh, scary. –B**

**Whatever. –E**

_Yep, definitely crushing._

~*~TBL~*~

Next day at school was… weird. I get out of my truck and make my way towards the building as usual. I catch some students whispering and some pointing, but I can't figure out what they're talking about. This isn't their normal "oh, look, the freak is coming" though.

I have reached my locker to retrieve my biology book, when I notice a stressed Jessica running in my direction.

"Bella, Bella!" she yells.

"Jeesh, Jess! What's got your panties in such a twist?"

"Oh, um, I wanted to catch you before you heard anything-"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Bella fucking Swan," I hear Jane's menacing voice behind us.

"Bella, don't," begs Jessica, tugging frantically at my blue and black checkered shirt. "Come on, let's go, we'll be late," she pleads.

Ignoring her, I turn to Miss Skank. "What the fuck do you want?" I spit at her, crossing my arms in front of me. Cocking my perfected bitch brow, too, for good measure. Honestly, I just need a smoke. It's too fucking early.

"Just to congratulate you for your acting prowess," she shrugs innocently. I don't like it one fucking bit. "You even had _me_ fooled with your attitude. I mean, I thought this whole 'total black' theme you have going on is because you are grieving or still mourning over your sister or something." _It can't be…_

"Turns out, it's not sadness, it's guilt!" she shouts, throwing her hands dramatically in the air. _Please God, no…_

"It wasn't a car accident," she seethes, leaning closer to my wide-eyed face. "It was _you_ who killed your sister. _You_ are responsible."

"It was an accident," I whisper.

"Leave her alone, Jane," Jessica comes to my defense. I make a mental note to thank her later, when I find my voice, because I'm not exactly breathing at the moment.

"You know," Jane continues, "you didn't only _murder_ your sister, but also took my brother's girlfriend away. He was this happy, ambitious young man, ready to begin his life with her in California. College, marriage, shitty jobs, the whole nine yards. Now, you made Alec want to run away from here, from us and he lives permanently, like, across the country. So, thanks a lot, _Bellsy_. At least, now my mother will know who to blame for essentially losing a _son_!" she hisses. Turning on her heel, she stomps off, dragging her stupid minions behind her.

I am frozen. My lungs stop functioning. My eyes are still big as saucers, yet all I can see are different pairs of eyes.

My sister's eyes shining with happiness, telling me about her college plans. _I killed her._

Her boyfriend's eyes when I first met him, his love for her radiating through his gaze. _I destroyed him._

My dad's eyes, looking sadly and tiredly at me in the wheelchair, right after Carrie's funeral. _I murdered his daughter._

Lastly, Jane's cold glare full of hatred and loathing, when she accused me of killing my sister. She's right, it's my fault. _I drove her brother out of the fucking state._

"Oh, God," I croak hoarsely.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Jessica hugs tightly my still petrified form.

"What- how…?" I am at a loss. Suddenly, it's all too much. The grief, the guilt, dad's pain, Jane's outburst. Too much. Putting a hand over my mouth, I rush to the girls' room, where I kneel over a toilet and empty the contents of my stomach violently. Jessica keeps my hair away from my face, as I dry heave. After wiping my mouth with some toilet paper, I collapse in her arms, sobs shaking my whole body.

"Shhh, I'm here, girlie, it's okay," Jessica murmurs, while stroking my hair. "I've never seen you like this before. Usually, it's the other way around," she chuckles humorlessly, recalling all those times she needed comforting after breaking up with Mike.

After who-knows-how-long, the doors burst open, Alice running to us. "God, I was at the dentist's. I just heard about it," she whispers.

Wordlessly, I raise my arms, begging she'll take the hint and come hug me. She has been my best friend since forever, always there. I need her.

After hugging my head to the crook of her neck and kissing the top of my head lovingly, she cups my cheeks. She makes me look at her, her gray-bluish eyes brimming with tears.

"However this fuck-up happened, we're here, okay? We," she motions between Jessica and herself, "love you," she smiles and wipes at my ever-flowing tears.

"I know. I love you, too, guys," I answer, feeling pathetic as hell. "Even you Jess," I smile sadly.

"But you usually call me 'stupid blondie'," she asks, confused.

"I know," I shrug, wiping even more black tears. "And you are. But I need you for being there-" I pause for a second "-and for making me feel intellectually superior," I add.

"I would ask what that means, but I have a feeling that will only prove your point, right?" she asks. "You and your big words," she mumbles.

I snort.

"Um, sorry to interrupt," Alice, well… interrupts, "but you're kind of missing the point here. How could she know?"

"I didn't say anything, Bellsy, I swear!" Jessica exclaims rather loudly in my ear.

Under different circumstances, I would have snapped at her for calling me that, but not this time. Internally, I'm seething. Every ounce of sadness I have turns to rage. Alice can't be the one; she posed the question in the first place. Plus, she had been there, we lived through it together. She knows what it did to me. Jessica didn't say anything, either. She had the chance to do so, saying something now doesn't make any sense. There's only one candidate left. In the distance, I can hear the bell ring.

"Lunch time," Alice murmurs. "Do you wanna stay here? We could get you a sandwich or something," she suggests.

"No, it's okay," I stand and fix my mostly ruined make up as much as I can in front of the mirror. "I'm going out there."

I feel like half Irish, human flesh all of a sudden.

~*~TBL~*~

I march with purpose through the corridors, heading to the cafeteria, still carrying my bag since this morning. The new sketch I drew of him last night feels like it weighs a ton now. _Stupid, stupid girl._

With what was left of my dignity intact, I push the doors open and step inside. All conversations cease. I only catch a few whispered words such as "accident", "distraction" and "jealousy". I don't pay them any attention.

A quick scan of the room tells me he isn't there. I would've spotted him right away because of his hair. I shake my head at myself. I called him "ginger" yesterday. Yes, _red_, like the pits of hell. I trusted him with too much too fast and I got burnt. Again. Three's the charm they said. He's a nice guy, they said. He would never hurt you, they said. Whoever "they" are, they can go fuck themselves. Edward Cullen is a big, fat son of a bitch.

Without a word, I turn around and go back outside. He can't hide forever. Surely enough, as soon as I exit the building, I see him rounding the corner. Apparently, he had been at the back of the building hiding. Fucking bastard.

"Oh, Bella, thank God," he sighs in relief when he catches sight of me. "I couldn't find you anywhere all day-"

That's when I cut him off, with my palm against his cheek. Forcefully. Yeah, I give him the mother of bitch-slaps. And, oops, I am wearing rings. Two of them, for the record.

He stands there, stunned, slightly turned and palming gently his reddening cheek. "Bella, what's wrong?" he whispers.

"What's wrong? _What's wrong?_ Are you fucking serious right now? I trusted you, Edward. How could you do this to me?" Just thinking what else I debated telling him… I shudder.

"What are you talking about?" he questions, shocked. Then it seems to dawn on him. "Oh God, you think- Bella, I would never- You _have_ to believe me- I didn't-"

"Save it," I cut him off harshly, fighting back traitorous tears. "Look, I don't really know why you did that. Honestly, I only have myself to blame. I shouldn't have said anything to you. But," I growl, "listen to me now. _Don't_ come near me. _Don't_ talk to me. _Don't_ think about me! Are. We. Clear?" I grit out through clenched teeth and turn to leave._ How could I be so stupid?_ I barely know Edward and there I go and open my trap. I told him about Carrie, for fuck's sake! Not even Charlie knows about this. Well, he's bound to find out. Everyone knows now and Forks is not a big town. Word gets around. I'm fucked. He'll be so fucking mad.

"No, Bella wait, please," he calls behind me and grabs my arm. "I didn't say anything. It must have been someone else who did it. I swear I didn't-"

"You know what? Just… forget it. Don't try to contact me again." I turn to leave before the tears spill over. "I hate you," I whisper before making a run for my car. There's only one place I want to be now. So, I head towards Forks' cemetery.

~*~TBL~*~

The next two weeks go by painfully slowly. Of course, when Dad heard what happened he wasn't very pleased, but I'm positive I managed to hide my limp pretty well for the following few days. "You've taken away everyone I love, one by fucking one!" were his exact words before he hit me to the point of passing out. He didn't like it when he found out about my job, either. I'm unemployed now. Thank God for the foresight to save up that itty-bitty money I have. I talk to no one with the exception of Alice and Jessica, smoke half a packet every day and get in more fights with Charlie than ever before. Edward has tried to talk to me but I try to ignore him as much as I can, which means I've also skipped English a few times.

I thought it couldn't get any worse until it did.

I hadn't even parked properly, when Rosalie marched towards me on Wednesday morning, her eyes glinting and smoke coming out of her ears. Kind of.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" she yells in my face.

"Takes one to know one," I reply bored, eager to escape her presence. It's too early for me to function.

"I always thought you're scum, but I didn't expect you to stoop so low," she growls.

"What are you talking about?" I ask annoyed. I have an excruciating headache and it's still early. A small crowd has gathered around.

"Don't play innocent. I'm not buying it. The whole school is buzzing about Edward wanting 'friends for rent'. You're the only one who knew. How could you do this to him?" her voice trembles a little. "Do you have any freaking idea what he went through?"

Matter of fact, I do. But I'm too stunned to reply. Someone leaked Edward's secret? It wasn't me, since I promised him, but then again, he promised, too. No one will believe me, if I refuse it, anyway. So, I go along with it. I've already written him off. If he hated me, it'd be easier for him to let go, right?

"Ah, well. He needed a taste of his own medicine. Tell him to not mess with me, next time," I smirk, dying a little inside. _He must be so hurt. Who did it? Who _knew_ to do it?_

"You goddamn slut!" she screeches and comes to me.

"Rosalie, don't!" I hear Edward's voice in the distance. Rosalie grabs my hair and clocks me in the eye.

"Ouch!" I scream. She tries to straddle me, but I'm faster. I raise my knee and hit her in the stomach. I roll over and get up, panting, as she hugs her torso.

"Don't you dare touch me ever again, you crazy bitch!" I screech while she is kneeling on the ground.

"Miss Swan? Miss Cullen? What's going on here?" _Just what I need_, I think to myself sarcastically. Mr. Ryan Collins, the school's Principal, is the last person I want to deal with right now and he's heading my way.

"I'm pretty sure what's going on here is like, so obvious. She's standing, she's kneeling. _Like_, come on!" Volturi's voice rings out.

I turn around and, sure enough, there she is. Bleached hair, blue eyes, tight slut-top and a too-short skirt for standing next to the principal, smug smirk firmly in place. And that glare of hers.

That "take that, bitch" glare.

I want to wipe it off her fucking face. Preferably with another bitch-slap.

"Miss Swan," Mr. Collins's voice brings me back to present. "My office, _**now**_." Someone hasn't gotten some in a while, I think wryly.

I follow him wordlessly, fighting back tears constantly, as I leave Rosalie behind to be assisted by her brothers. _Will my friendship with Alice be affected because of this?_ I don't think so, but I'll worry about it later.

As I make my all-too-familiar way up the Principal's office, I try to get my emotions under control, my whimpers barely containable. If he's heard my sniffling, he doesn't let on.

When I enter the dreaded office, I sit in one of the chairs as he takes his place behind the big, wooden desk. I notice it is freshly polished. Yeah, I know this desk _that well_.

"Miss Swan," he starts, lacing his chubby fingers in front of him. "This behavior…" he trails off.

"This is the third time you get involved in a fight in a month, Bella" he states, regaining his look of authority. He calls me by my nickname. I guess that's bad, huh? "I'm afraid I'll have to suspend you for a couple of days, until you calm down." _Great_. "Of course you understand that I had to alert your father and inform him of your misdemeanors," he continues, without realizing that I'm suddenly pale and about to seconds away from passing out. Or crying again.

My father? Like Chief Charlie Swan, my father? Oh, God, no. He continues talking, but his words sound muffled, I can hear my own heartbeat, my ears ring. My breaths become shallow and my spine goes rigid.

All the adrenaline I had coursing through me left me in a whoosh. Everything that happened today comes crushing down. I feel exhausted. My hands go numb, paralyzed out of fear for what's to come. Surely, he'll kill me. My shoulders slump before tensing up all over again. There's a knock on the door.

"Mr. Collins, you wanted to see me?" his gruff voice carries throughout the office. It was like a cold shower.

When he sits next to me in the other chair, I don't look at him. I clutch my bag even tighter and hug it to me instead.

When he leads me out of the school building, I don't look at him. I stare at the ground instead.

When I sit in the back seat of his car, I don't look at him. I rest my forehead against the window instead.

When he growls at me to get the hell out of the car, I don't look at him. I close my eyes and drag myself up the few steps that separate me from the front door instead. I was too ashamed to look at him.

I let myself in and drop my bag beside the door and wait.

And wait.

And then it came. After closing and locking the door behind him, he gives me a hard shove on the back and sends me tumbling on the hallway floor.

"How fucking stupid can you possibly be?" he screams as he shrugs out of his jacket. Before I can think of a response, he grabs my hair harshly and I cry out in response before I can hold it, reaching up to untangle myself. He pulls even harder and drags me in the living room. He drops me to the floor and delivers a swift kick to my stomach. All air leaves me.

"Do you know what I heard today, _Bellsy_?" he sneers and grabs my jaw harshly, forcing me to look at him. "That you got sent to the Principal's office again. Is it not enough that it was your fault my Carrie lost control of that fucking car? Is it not enough that I slave away every day at the station so you can have it all?" he spits at me as my eyes water and my breath starts coming out labored. "What else do you want from me? Always a fucking burden. I could've given you up, but I didn't. Carrie was never like this. She took care of _you_ while I was at the station, because _you_ sent your own mother away! All I receive is disappointment. And you get fucking suspended, too. Why Bella? Why do you hate your own fucking father so much?!"

No, no, he was wrong. He told us mum left. They had an argument, he said and she left us. Surely, that wasn't my fault. But what if… "Fucking answer me!" he yells, his angry, brown eyes boring into my identical, angst-filled ones. When all I can force out is a whimper –meaning for it to be an apology- he pulls back and punches my jaw. The force turns my head to the right and I knock my head on the coffee table, making my vision blurry. Before my brain can register the full extent of the pain, his foot comes in contact with my left ribcage repeatedly. Pain radiates through my aching body.

By now, tears are streaming down my face and I'm gasping for breath, all the while he's huffing and puffing in the background.

"All day, every day, I'm trying. I really am. Why can't you just be like her? Why did _she_ have to die?" he whispers the last part, sorrow lacing his voice. Quickly, it's replaced by rage.

"Fucking tell me!" he demands, squeezing my arms and shaking me.

"I'm sor-sorry," I exhale brokenly and turn my eyes downcast.

"Stop being such a weakling, Isabella! Look at me, damnit!" He grips my chin only to push me back down when I don't reply.

For once, I don't respond. I don't resist. I let him abuse my ears with his words and my body with his fists, because I understand. I finally get it. After all these times when he punched me or was being harsh. I don't have the right to fight back. My God, I completely destroyed his life. At this exact moment, it clicked. I'm the one responsible for my mother's departure, as well. It was too much for her to have to take care of two kids only at the age of twenty-three. She must have run away because of me, because I was too much for her, because she couldn't handle me. Carrie always said I was a screamer. I took my dad's wife, killed his daughter and left him alone to support me. He could have given me away. Everyone said I was unplanned, anyway. Instead, he kept me, gave me a home. And how do I repay him? By being a shitty daughter and wrecking his life. I have no room for talking.

Between pulls and shoves, I mange to wheeze out a barely audible "I'm sorry" before I pass out and coldness engulfs me.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about that, but it had to happen. :( What did you think of it? Was Bella too harsh to Edward? Too bad-ass with Rosalie? (I always wanted to write a cat-fight! Mwahaha) What about Charlie? Leave me your thoughts!<strong>

**Thank you for reading!**

**Until next chapter...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally, ladies and gentlemen! I got a review! I was starting to worry... :/ I don't know who you are, but thank you, wherever you are! Also, does any of you know what I can do to make my story a bit more popular? I love you all for reading my story, but I'd like to spread the word a bit and I don't know how... Anyway...**

**For this one, it's not so much the tissue warning that stands, but the _lemon_ one... Oh, yeah!**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven<p>

Everything hurts. Inside out. My head, my eye, _fuck_ my jaw, my arms, my sides are killing me and my back… well, it feels like I had landed on it. Which I had. It's like waking up in the hospital bed all over again; only this time I can feel my legs. The only casualty would be a slight burning on my knees when I landed on them rather clumsily.

I try to sit up but I just… can't. It hurts. So, I try to get as comfortable as possible and work with what I have. I'm in my bed, I can tell that much. I'm also alone in the house. No TV sounds, no fridge doors opening. Nothing. Charlie must have left for his shift. Ok, what else? I can tell it's dark. I open my eyes –ok, the right one hurts too much but whatever- and reach over to grab my alarm clock. Trying to ignore the sharp pain from my bruised ribs, I stretch my hand to catch the damned thing. It reads 22:47. _Wow, I've been sleeping for quite a while._

An extremely annoying sound makes me realize that my phone is ringing and was apparently receiving a call. I stretch a little further to reach- ugh. _Bright, bright, BRIGHT!_

At least, too bright for my liking.

Sucking it up, I open my non-bruised eye to see the ID Caller. It reads _Edward_. That will be a no. I may be deserving of my father's wrath, but I'm not a masochist.

After declining his incoming call, I lower the brightness and check my history. Huh. Ninety-seven unanswered calls, fifty-two voice messages and seventy-five texts. Ok, for a span of two weeks -give or take a few minutes- that's a lot. Who knew I'm so famous?

Of course, the majority of all of the aforementioned comes from Edward. _Persistent little shit!_

_Please pick up. Please answer. I'm worried. Call me back._

That pretty much sums up his fifty-one voice messages and seventy-four texts. And that's what he would have probably told me, had I picked up the phone, any of the ninety-five times he called, just like any other time he has tried in the last two weeks.

The rest of the calls, voice messages and texts come from Alice and Jess. Of course.

They're the only ones who know what's going on. Alice has desperately tried to get me to press charges against my father. However, her dad owns the only diner-bar here in Forks. In order to make it, he sometimes allows underage drinking. If the bar were to shut down, they would have no income, and it would be oh-so-easy for Daddy Dearest to do just that. As a result, she's backed off a bit, but is still trying to find alternatives. And Jessica… Well, she is Jessica. I told her to not say a word. She won't say a word.

Ignoring Edward and his texts completely once again, I fire off a quick reply to Alice stating that I'm alive but won't be at school the next day, so she won't worry and then I switch off my phone. I make a mental note to erase his messages. I haven't bothered yet. After a few grunts and groans, I decide I will assess the full extent of the damage tomorrow.

My thoughts go over everything that happened since that first day I met him. How I knew from the get-go that I should remain distant, that he wouldn't be good for me. My prejudices against them smart guys are correct after all. Still, I gravitated towards him, the urge was –and still is- too great for me to resist. His wild hair, his startling, bluish-green topaz eyes, his lopsided grin. And then his kindness, his chivalry, his sense of humor, his… _ugh_! I still fail to see how I could misread him like that. He has always been so, I don't know, true. He didn't sugarcoat anything he said, but he was still gentle, he didn't offend. Too good to be true.

I recall my mood when this day started. I was still feeling like shit, but I had decided to let him explain himself. I don't know what I was hoping for. A misunderstanding, maybe? I don't know, _something_. Bullshit. He backstabbed me in the worst way possible and then he had the nerve to act surprised, making it worse. _I would never do that to you. You _have_ to believe me._ That's the problem. I trusted him. I really did trust him with things it took me years to confess to Alice and Jess. So, by asking me to believe him, he made it worse. So much worse, because I wanted so badly to do just that. Fuck logic, turn a blind eye to evidence and say that I do. I didn't want to admit that he outed me, betrayed me like that. But he did and now he's accusing me of doing the same to him and…

"… It hurts so fucking much," I whisper brokenly in the dark room, too pathetically for my liking, but I can't fucking help it. "I've never felt so… defeated. I knew from the start that expanding my social circles wasn't in my best interest. Still, against my better judgment, I gave in. And it came back to bite me in the ass, just like I knew it would," I whimper quietly. "First mom, then dad… even you gave up on me, not that you could help it. And now Edward… Everyone just… leaves, gives up on me. But I still don't see the motive behind his actions, Carr. Why?" Just… why?

The sound of the front door slamming shut, alerting me to Charlie's arrival, was the last thing I heard before a fitful sleep claimed me.

~*~TBL~*~

When I wake up again, it's daylight. However, the sun isn't hitting me in the throbbing face, which means it isn't morning anymore.

The pain hasn't subsided for shit. I'm thirsty, hungry and in dire need of a shower. But in order to satisfy those needs, I should be able to move first.

I try to stretch my limbs to see what the damage is. My upper arms are aching, I estimate I have bruises. It also hurts to take deep breaths; my ribs are sore and my knees sting. Suddenly, I hear loud voices downstairs.

"I already told you, she won't be seeing anyone today. She's very sick, she needs to rest!" That was Dad.

"But I have collected her homework, sir. I believe I should hand it to her." Calm voice, but stern and unyielding at the same time. Edward? What is he doing here? I thought he'd hate me by now. I do. No, really, I hate him, I do. Honestly.

"Ha! That's a good one! Since when does Bells give a shit about school? Anyway, she can't see you and I have to go to the station. Turn around and leave."

_God, Edward! Just leave already, please! He's not kidding around._

"Okay then. Um, I can come back later, I guess," Edward lowers his voice so much I barely hear him.

"Or not!" was Charlie's harsh reply, followed by a thud of the door shutting close.

Worried he'd come up to check on me, I clutch my aching ribs and turn my body so that I will face away from the door. Sure enough, the door creaks open two minutes later.

"Bells? Are you awake?" Dad whispers and creeps closer. The familiar sound of the tray with the water and two painkillers come next as he deposits them on the night table. After a severe "session", he would get really sweet, bring me painkillers, take care of me and let me stay at home for a couple of days and "take it easy".

"Okay," he murmurs. "I'm off to the station. See you tonight, honey." He bends down, kisses my hair and leaves my room. I wait until I hear his cruiser pulling out of the driveway to reach over and wash down the painkillers with water. I debate with myself for a second and decide that if I'm not completely healed in fifteen minutes, I'd light one of the joints I keep in a jewel box, under my bed. Irrational, I know, but weed offers a more instant gratification than the fucking pills, relief and a mental escape.

But a rapid knock on my bedroom door stops my thoughts. Didn't Charlie just leave? What does he want? Did he realize I'm awake? Will he beat me up again?

"Bella? Are you in there? Are you awake?" Edward questions, the panic in his voice carrying through the door.

My every limb and nerve ending screams out in pain as I try to turn my body swiftly into its former position. I stifle my whimpering in my pillow as best as I can and barely manage to get my shallow breathing under control, which in turn hurts my ribs even further. I curl my body inward in the fetal position and pull the covers over my head.

The door creaks open again and Edward lets himself in. "Are you asleep? Oh, um-" he starts whispering, "are you really sick? Are you sleeping?" His footsteps come closer. "I just… Well, uh, yeah I worried. Rose thinks I'm stupid, but it doesn't matter. Shit, I'll probably get arrested for trespassing. I should get going." I can feel him staring at the back of my covered head, but I don't respond. I want him to leave. It's not safe here. There's no telling what could've happened to him. Instead, I focus on keeping my moans to a minimum. Apparently, I'm not as successful as I thought.

"Why don't you answer? I know you're awake! Just say something!" he yells. Before I can react, he pulls the covers off me. I mustn't be a pretty sight because he gasps and freezes.

"Oh my God. Bella…" he whispers. Bending at the waist, he helps me sit up while I wince and groan. "What happened to you? Who did- Did your father do this to you?"

I can't respond, captivated as I am from his gaze. Concerned, worried, sad, enraged. I see it all in his liquid, turquoise pools. "What are you doing here?" is all I can muster. "How did you get in here?"

"Through the back door." Helping me to scoot over, he sits next to me with his back against the headboard and holds me just like he had- was it just two weeks ago? My head rests on his shoulder and his strong arms are wrapped around my battered body, holding me tightly to his chest. It feels more like he's holding me together, keeping me from falling apart. I hadn't realized I'd missed him until now that I feel him again.

"As to what I'm doing here… Well, I thought you got suspended, but I heard your friend telling Jasper that she hadn't heard from you and she was worried. I thought 'why would she be?' Bella is home." He tightens his arms around me and sighs. "She's supposed to be safe," he murmurs and kisses my hair. "I'm sorry," he sighs again and rests his cheek on top of my head.

"What are you apologizing for?" I tilt my head to look in his eyes, but all I manage is his jaw. Ah, well. It's still something.

"I promised you, remember? I promised you I'd be there for you no matter what. I broke that promise _when I let him lay his hands on you_," he spits the last words out, his voice dripping venom.

"Hey," I cup his… um… scruffy, square jaw, my anger forgotten. "It wasn't your fault. My dad… he's not always like that. He's just a bit hot-tempered and-"

"That doesn't give him the right to hit you, Bella!" he raises his voice. "Have you even seen your face?"

"Uh," I hesitate, "I haven't really, no. I haven't gotten out of bed yet," I tell him with a small smile.

"So what happened yesterday? He blamed you for getting suspended, that bastard-"

"Edward!" I cut him off. "Stop, please." He has no right to blame Dad for something I'm responsible.

"Right. We have more important matters to tend to." He takes a few deep breaths and seems to calm down some. "Do you need anything? Are you thirsty, hungry maybe?"

"Honestly? I really need to pee. My bladder is about to explode," I exaggerate.

"Okay, okay," he laughs lightly through his nose. "Come here, sweetheart. I'll help you get to the bathroom."

_Uh, sweetheart?_

Without another word, he puts an arm behind my back and the other one behind my knees, picks me up and walks me bridal style to the bathroom. I clasp my hands behind his neck and nestle my forehead in the crook of his neck. He smells so good in there. Spicy but still sweetly. So rich. So… Edward. "… too light for my liking," he mumbles.

He opens the bathroom door with his elbow –don't ask me how he managed that-, sits me on the toilet lid and gets out, waiting outside the door. When I tell him I'm done, he comes back in, grabs a small towel, soaks it with cold water and dabs it on my lip. I hadn't realized it was harmed.

"Does it hurt?" he asks softly, his concerned eyes trained on my lip.

"No, it's okay. Just stings a little. I've had worse," I give a humorless chuckle.

"Where?" he grits out.

"Huh?"

"Where else does it hurt? Where else did he hurt you?" he says harshly, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

"Um," I hesitate, "I couldn't really open my eye yesterday so I guess I'm sporting a shiner, my jaw hurts and uh, I have a few sore ribs," I mumble, focusing on his Aerosmith T-shirt.

With a heavy sigh, he stands up and kisses the top of my head. "I'll be right back."

While he is gone, I try to put my jumbled thoughts in order, because Edward being here doesn't make sense.

So, okay. First, he outs my secret, making me the ultimate target at school. Then I punch him and refuse to contact him ever again, even if I'm dying to. Then he claims I betrayed him and I get in a nasty catfight with his sister. Then Dad picks me up from school, brings me home and beats the crap out of me. And now, Edward is here, taking care of me.

Nope. Not making sense at all.

A gentle hand on my shoulder startles me back to present.

"Sorry," Edward chuckles nervously, as his turquoise eyes meet my dull ones. "I called your name."

"Don't worry, it's not a concussion," I smile sadly. I _would_ know. "I just zoned out for a second."

"I brought you some ice. For your eye and jaw," he murmurs.

"Don't touch my eye yet. You'll only ruin the towel. I didn't get a chance to wash off the makeup," I warn.

"Of course you didn't," he grumbles bitterly. "How could you? Your ribs are bruised at best, for Christ's sake!"

"Edward, please," I plead. I'm not ready for the conversation I know is coming.

"You're right. We have time for that later. Do you want me to help you clean up?" he concedes.

"It's okay," I shrug. I can put it off for a bit longer. "Uh, can I have the ice, though?" My jaw hurts.

"Yes, yes, of course," he rushes out and leans closer to touch the towel-clad ice on my jaw.

"Sorry," he whispers when I hiss and wince.

"It's okay."

After a few minutes, he speaks again. "That's pretty much all I can do for now. Do you have anything to tape up your ribs with?"

I point at the cabinet beneath the sink. "Second drawer," I mumble and start chewing lightly on my lip.

He rummages through the contents of the drawer for a while before finally finding some gauze. "Aha!" he exclaims. "Found it!"

He hands it over to me and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "Um, I'm just gonna wait outside again while, uh, you do your… thing with, yeah," he stammers and flees from the bathroom.

I chuckle quietly and shake my head at him. How can one person be scary and intimidating one second only to look sweet and shy the next? Only Edward. After everything that happened between us, he's here, taking care of me while Charlie is at the station. And me… well, I'm supposed to still loathe him, he really, really hurt me. Yet, I can't find it in me to even dislike him right now. Confused doesn't begin to cover how I'm feeling, but asking him to leave is out of the question.

I reach down to grasp the hem of my _pfff_… _smelly_ shirt to pull it off my head… But I can't. As soon as I lift my arms even in the slightest, my ribs scream out in protest. There's only one way to making this work and the one person here to help me is currently waiting outside the bathroom door, but I don't want him to-

Wait. Why the fuck would I be embarrassed about Edward seeing me? It's just a bit of tummy. No biggie. No reason to be embarrassed. Not one. Besides, he's not gonna be the first to see me, right? Christ, I'm acting like a 25-year-old virgin. That's not to say I'm fucking a different guy every other day, but yeah… _Woman the fuck up, Isabella! Jeesh. _

"Uh, Edward?" I call.

"Are you okay in there?"

"Could you come in for a sec? I need your help," I blush and look down.

"What is it?" he asks confused when he looks me over.

"I can't take my shirt off. You're gonna have to hold it up for me."

"Okay," he agrees and lifts hesitantly the hem of my wrinkled top up to my armpits. And one, two, three…

"Holy shit!"

Yep. Something like that. My left side is purple, my ribs imperceptibly protruding. Or bluish-black-something. Plus, it hurts like a motherfucker.

"It's not as bad as it seems. I'm too pale, I bruise easily," I try to explain. He huffs. Without replying to him, I get to tape my ribs. Tightly over and over, until my whole midsection resembles a mummy's.

"All done?"

"Uh, yeah," I mutter, still not looking up, because my face is redder than a sun burnt lobster.

"Hey," he murmurs and squats down in front of me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Don't hide your face from me, sweetheart," he brushes his knuckles against my flaming cheek. "Such a beautiful blush you have." _Fuck, he noticed my- err, beautiful?_ "And with your black-rimmed eyes," he chuckles lightly through his nose, "you look like a ladybug."

I snort. "There's no escaping the insect theme, is there?"

"No, I'm afraid not," he laughs. I love the sound of his laughter. Soft, warm, inviting. Not forced, but carefree.

My eyes flicker to his mouth. His pink, juicy lips part to let his tongue slip out and moisten them suggestively.

I feel myself instinctively doing the same.

I'm not sure who leans in first. I'm not sure when he cradles my face between his large, soft hands. I'm not sure how my hands work their way up his apparently muscular biceps and in his thick hair, tugging and pulling.

All I know is that suddenly, his lips are connected to mine.

~*~TBL~*~

_Surely, I'm dreaming._

The situation I find myself in is surreal at best, yet I don't want it to end.

Edward brushes his lips against mine softly, keeping it light. Frustration takes over and I press my lips to his more firmly and pull at his hair, bringing his face closer to me. My lip still hurts, but I don't care. He responds with the same fervor, if not more, and deepens the kiss even further with a groan, his hands descending to my waist and urging me to lean closer.

I part my lips and let my tongue do what it's been craving for since the first time I saw him. I swipe it urgently across his bottom lip, silently begging for entrance.

He responds to my request immediately, and with a mutual moan our tongues meet, battling and dancing at the same time.

The spell breaks when he moans my name. Sorta.

"_Ladybug."_

_No. No, no! This is wrong!_ I can't do this with him. He betrayed me, and then I hurt him and then… What a mess!

I'm so confused. I don't understand his behavior. He's supposed to hate me after the way I treated him. Yet, he is here with me, nursing me back to health and there is a 50% chance that he initiated the kiss. _But what a kiss it was…_

Shaking my head to clear it, I place my hands against his chest and push him gently away from me.

"Edward, wait…" I look up at him.

He sucks in a deep breath. "I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," he sighs, running his hand through his hair. The other one has yet to leave its spot on my waist. "I just thought-"

"And you were right," I interrupt him with a finger on his lips. "I wanted it, too. I just don't understand. You're supposed to hate me, remember? Why are you here?"

"So, wait-" Confusion creeps up his features. "It's true then? It was you who told everyone?" he looks down.

"No, no. Edward, I would never do that to you. I just figured that you wouldn't believe me anyway, so why bother to deny it? I had the information and I had a motive. When your sister came up to me…"

"My sister came up to you, because she didn't stop to think, just like anyone else. But Jasper and I sat down and tried to figure it out." He plops down on the carpet, in the middle of the bathroom.

"Since I didn't say anything about you," he stares at me momentarily with his eyes, "obviously someone else did. And I know you wouldn't say a thing, because if you wanted to, why wait two whole weeks, right? Right. So, our guess is that someone else from school heard us while we were talking at the park. It wasn't exactly deserted," he smiles sheepishly and rubs at the back of his neck.

But, but… "Fuck!" I curse and stand up quickly, ignoring the searing pain that shoots up my ribs. Storming into my room, I start frantically looking for my combat boots, all the while trying to blink back the tears brimming in my eyes. Why would anyone want to do this to me? To us? This concerns Edward, as well. It isn't just me who got hurt.

Two firm hands grip my shoulders from behind and put a stop to my searching. Edward spins me around and crushes me to his chest.

"Bella, stop. Please. You're only hurting yourself."

"I have to do _something_," I whimper pathetically and fist his T-shirt.

"Like what? Question every single student of Forks High until one of them confesses?" He sighs and kisses my temple. "It doesn't work this way, Ladybug."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I suggest…" he backs us up until his knees hit the bed frame and he sits down, pulling me in his lap with zero resistance from me, "that we simply let this die down." I don't miss the "we", either. "Sooner or later, someone's bound to do something gossip-worthy. If we're lucky, it'll even be a teacher," he mocks, widening his eyes to feign shock.

"You're right," I relent and bury my nose in the crook of his neck once again, eager to breathe in his intoxicating scent. Have I ever mentioned how good he smells? "That doesn't answer my original question, though. Why are you here?" I ask, my voice muffled against his skin.

"Because I wanted to," he replies imploringly and shrugs his shoulder just to jostle me.

"Hey, I'm getting comfortable here," I raise my head and try to give him the stink-eye. I thread my fingers through his hair and tug to get him closer.

"I'm glad you're here," I say and touch my still-swollen lips to his. Just lightly, just gingerly, but passionately altogether. At that exact moment, I almost feel normal. No darkness, no desperation, no lack of feeling safe. I'm just another teenage girl making out in her room with her- with someone who gets her. Someone who makes her feel safe, secure and warm. Welcomed. Wanted. Feelings she couldn't take for granted up until now.

Somehow in the middle of our frenzied kiss, I end up straddling him and his hands are underneath my shirt. One on my hip with his thumb reaching my stomach and his other on my back, rubbing gentle circles on my skin and making me wet.

He breaks away from my mouth with a gasp and stares into my eyes. His are dark, blackened with lust. The beautiful sea-like color of his eyes that I've come to love is now a thin ring surrounding his dilated pupils.

"God, Bella," he growls and cups my neck, pulling me in again to kiss me hard. All too soon, he pulls away again, though this time his lips never leave my oversensitive skin. He kisses across my cheek and nuzzles my jaw line, jolts of electricity shooting straight to my pussy, all the while I fist his hair to the point of pain and moan like a whore.

He leaves butterfly kisses all over my neck until he reaches my pulse point. When he finds it, he sucks hard and even bites it lightly, then licks the sting away, sending ripples of pleasure throughout my body and making me buck my hips against his with a groan.

"Oh, fuck!" I moan loudly when his clothed erection hits me just right.

"Jesus, Bella," he grunts against my neck and thrusts upwards, giving me the friction I so desperately need.

I choke on thin air.

If we were frenzied before, I don't know what we are now. He keeps assaulting my neck with his lips, teeth and tongue, most likely leaving a big-ass hickey, but I can't bring myself to give a fuck right now. It feels _sooo_ good. My mind can't focus on more than one thing and at the moment my attention is solely focused on what he's doing to me with his still-covered cock.

He keeps thrusting upwards while I swivel my hips just right so that the head of his cock rubs against my throbbing clit every time. I fist the back of his T-shirt and tug lightly.

"Off," I breathe huskily.

His mouth and hands still on my skin.

"Bella?"

"Just _your_ T-shirt," I clarify, panting. We've already established that I'm in no condition to strain my ribs hard enough to take my top off. Besides, neither of us is ready to have sex. We literally _just_ made up.

"Oh, ok." Edward regains his previous urgency and reaches back to pull off his tee. Not so surprisingly, his chest is muscular and firm. Not overly bulky, but defined and lean with washboard abs and faintest hint of reddish hair smattering his pectorals.

"God, you're hot," I whisper. Edward's light chuckle morphs into a moan when I make my nails across his chest and drag them over his nipples. He tightens his arms around me and I yelp, which in turn makes him freeze his movements once again.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks breathlessly.

"No, just don't stop!" I whine and rub against him feverishly.

He leans in my ear and whispers "be careful what you wish for," before sucking my earlobe in his mouth. Not a second later, he flips us over so that he is above me, on his knees. He hitches my leg over his hip, pulls my pelvis up by my ass and thrusts hard and swiftly forward.

"Yes," we moan in unison, throwing our heads back.

I can tell he is getting close. His erratic movements, his labored breathing, his hungry kisses. They're all signs of his desperation to come. I'm not far behind, but I need more. That little push that will send me over the edge.

"Touch me," I whisper in his ear and start lavishing his neck with open-mouthed kisses. He seems to hesitate, so I simply take his hands and place them on my breasts.

"Touch me," I plead again and lean into him, moving my hips non-stop. Slowly but surely, he loosens up. He flexes his fingers and massages my breasts while rolling my hard nipples with his thumb and forefinger through the thin material of my top and bra.

The rhythm of his thrusting never falters. The coil in my stomach tightens.

"Edward, I'm close!" I exclaim and buck my hips wildly against his steel-hard cock.

"Let go, Bella. Come on, let me see you," he grunts against my lips. With that, he bites my earlobe, pinches both pebbled peaks hard and delivers one last, hard thrust.

It's too much. Sensory overload. His mouth, his words, his hands, his cock. He is everywhere.

I'm gone.

The knot in my belly explodes in a million tiny pieces, shattering me into the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced. God, and to think this was just dry-humping!

Somewhere in the distance I feel Edward shuddering above me as he gets lost in his own release, though all I can hear is my own erratic breathing and feeble attempts to take a goddamn breath.

"That was…" Edward trails off, panting.

_Let me guess…_ "Your… first… 'teamwork' orgasm?" I pant.

"Yeah, but what a way to start," he chuckles breathlessly and presses his forehead in the crook of my neck. "You smell so good," he sighs.

"I thought that after two days, I would just smell," I retort.

"Fair enough." He takes my face between his hands and stares in to my eyes. "Are you _sure_ I didn't hurt you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay." He gets up and helps me stand. "How about you go freshen up and I'll change your sheets. Sounds good?"

"Sure, thanks," I nod.

He shakes his head. "I still can't believe I came in my pants. On purpose, nonetheless. That's usually what us boys try to avoid desperately."

"If it helps, I did, too," I try to comfort him, but he doesn't buy it.

"Yeah, whatever. Get in the shower, Ladybug," he points at the door and swats my ass lightly.

I burst out laughing and head for the door.

"Hey, Bella?" Edward calls just before I open it.

"What?" I turn to look at him, my hand still on the doorknob.

"Um," he rubs his neck and clears his throat, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

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><p><strong>Whew! Is it hot in here or what? That's the first lemon I've ever written, so go easy on me, and, if you have any pointers, I'm all for it.<strong>

**Once more, PLEASE leave me your thoughts! Oh, and the story is already done *points at head*, so don't worry about my disappearing, okay? I'll complete this story.**

**Thank you for reading! 3**

**Until next chapter...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! So, story stats tell me this story has over 600 views? It sounds like a big number, so I'm excited! Okay, that sounded dumb… I just wanted to thank you for giving me the time of day and reading my story. And keep the reviews coming!**

**This chapter is kind of small, because my uterus is taking her monthly revenge on me for not getting pregnant. I'll try to make it up to you.**

**Something I've forgotten to mention is that none of my chapters are beta'ed or pre-read. I'm playing this by ear.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter Eight<p>

_It's okay, Bella. You can do it. Act normal. It's okay. You're just getting picked up by your boyfriend on his way to school, _I chant to myself.

_Yes, _I snort,_ only said boyfriend is the last person anyone would expect._

Not that I care what anyone thinks, but it would be nice if no one stared at me for once. I guess I'll have to work up to that.

Rome wasn't built in a day.

As I wait for Edward to arrive –Dad left earlier this morning- I check myself in the mirror once again to make sure everything is covered.

The black eye thanks to Rosalie. Check.

The bruise on my jaw thanks to Charlie. Check.

My whole fucking neck thanks to Mr. Boyfriend. Check. I shake my head at that. My neck looks as if I've been attacked by an animal. Five hickeys, thank you very much. I only managed to give him two and a third, smaller one, but he's a guy, so I guess it'll be harder for him to cover them. Besides, I want all the bitches at school to know he's fucking taken.

For the two days that followed our revelation plus the weekend, my _boyfriend_ would come over after school or after Charlie has gone to work and give me my homework. He'd even help me so I would be done sooner. Now that I think about it, he was doing it for selfish reasons. As soon as we were both finished with the workload, he would attack me and we would end up making out, among other things. Since Wednesday, he would even bring a new pair of jeans and fresh underwear with him in his backpack. "Just in case" he said when I asked him. Not that they didn't come handy, but anyway.

Surprisingly, we didn't spend all of our time together just exchanging germs, but we managed to actually talk. Isn't that what couples do? Besides, I like talking with him. He's understanding and funny and he makes me feel comfortable. I can open up to him, share things with him. Apparently, he feels the same way, because I'm not the only one sharing. Who knew someone could be allergic to pears? Edward is. He's also dreaming of becoming an architect. He says he loves the idea of turning a family's dream house true. He sees himself studying in California, living away from his parents. The crazy thing is that I see myself going with him. I'll be dead before the student loans are paid, but… I could work on my sketching or something.

Also, Edward apparently can't "for the life of him" –as he put it- "comprehend why on Earth" I would choose to live with my dad and his abusive ways instead of turning him in. I've tried to explain to him, without revealing too much, that I'm all he has, that he needs me just as I him. Besides, such severe incidents hardly happen often. Usually, there's only yelling and shoving.

He didn't seem satisfied, but he backed off after I promised to call him should something –anything- happen. And to see Iron Man on Friday night. I'm pretty sure the second term sealed the deal for him.

Eventually, I sucked it up and showed him all the sketches I've done. They ranked up to twenty by now. Lots of free time in the last two –almost three- weeks. Instead of reacting like a normal person and telling me I'm at least a stalker, he just smiled. He said I'm talented and that he loves them. "If you decide to come to New York with me, send them a couple of those. They'll accept you in no time." It really mattered. Being accepted like that. When I had shown Dad a drawing of a Mariners' player pitching, all I had gotten was a grunt and a "don't waste your time like that, kid. Coloring will get you nowhere." I was barely thirteen.

I hear Edward pulling in and killing the engine. With a deep breath, I pick up my bag and get out.

"Καλημέρα, Πασχαλίτσα," he greets me cheekily and gives me a peck on the lips. Hhmpf. I knew Greek lessons weren't the best idea. He says it all the time now. It took him a week to get the pronunciation right.

"Morning," I mumble and look down, eager to get in the car and get this over with.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Edward asks, immediately concerned. He cups my face with his warm hands and stares deeply into my eyes, trying to find… whatever it is he is searching. "Did _he_ do something?" he growls.

"Gee, no!" I snap and pull away. "I told you, if anything happened, I'd call you. Relax, will you?" I take another deep breath and drag my hair away from my face. "Sorry I snapped. I'm not much of a morning person and I'm not exactly used to this whole-"

"It's okay, really," he sighs and pulls me into his arms tightly, kissing my hair. My stiff posture relaxes immediately and my hands wrap around his midsection. "I don't know how relationships work, either. I just- when I saw your face…" he trails off. "I imagined the worse."

"It's nothing like that," I assure him and kiss his lickable jaw. In fact, I haven't really seen my father since the "incident". I'm always locked in my room. "I'm just worried. I don't exactly enjoy their staring," I mutter, my voice muffled by his Edward-smelling shirt. I _love_ Edward's natural smell.

"Don't worry. I'll be there," he mock-cheers and takes my hand, dragging me to his car. In true gentleman-spirit, he opens my door, ushers me in and closes it behind me.

"I was wondering," he begins after a few beats of silence, Ben E. King playing in the background, "since you want to avoid the stares and all, why don't you come to sit with me? It'll also be your friend and your cousin."

I open my mouth to object, but he holds a finger to stop me. "Before you say anything –more likely to argue-, let me tell you that Rose asked if you could join us. Of course I'd ask you anyway, but she said she wants to apologize. She really feels bad about your eye and all. And no, I didn't tell her anything about what's going on. Please?"

"Okay then," I answer indifferently. Honestly, I don't care much. Sure, I want Rosalie –and Jasper for that matter- to like and approve of me, but I'm not going to beg. Or should I? Should I apologize first? Or tell her that all is fine between us? But then she'll think I haven't taken her seriously. She did get me sent to the Principal's office. But she punched me first. Not without reason, though, she thought she was defending Edward. But I was innocent. Ugh! God, Carrie, what do I do?

~*~TBL~*~

The rest of the day rolls by uneventfully, save for the constant glaring. Edward is with me when my classes end, protecting me from the "evil school population" as best as he can. It feels strange –but good strange- to have someone watching your six, to not having to be on your guard constantly. Of course Alice and Jessica were always there, but this is different. I've never done anything like this before. Hand holding, smiling like an idiot for no fucking reason, chuckling just because. The feeling of safety. Yes, especially that last one. I hadn't felt it in over five years.

Rosalie and I talk things out during lunch. She apologizes for her part and explains why she did it. "What happened to Edward back in Chicago is something I always blamed myself for, because I could have protected him. So when I saw it happening again, I couldn't sit with my arms crossed," she explained. I told her I forgive her and that I'm sorry. We had a mutual understanding that we wouldn't instantly love each other, but we decided to give each other a chance. No pressure, though. We talk on civilized terms for now.

~*~TBL~*~

Same goes on for the rest of the week. We are in the cafeteria and it's lunchtime. All three Cullen siblings –okay, Rose not so much, but still- and Alice are all trying to convince me to accept Edward's invitation. What invitation you ask? He wants me to meet his parents! And, apparently, his mother's birthday party is the perfect opportunity. Now, I know I've wondered about whether I should meet them or not –and as what- but now I'm more than a little freaked out. If their kids are any indication, the Cullens are smart, elegant and fancy people. How am I ever gonna fit in?

"Come on, Bella, please? It'll be so much fun! I'll be there, too!" Alice gushes and gives me her puppy's eyes. Only, Alice has already met Edward's parents when they ran into each other at Walmart and from what I know they want to adopt her. "Oh, I know! I can come over your place a little earlier. We can get ready together!" she claps, her tiny frame vibrating on the chair. Energizer bunny.

"I don't know about that, A," I murmur, chewing on my lip. "If I want to have any chances with Charlie letting me to come, I'd better get ready on my own. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure about that?" Edward asks from his seat next to mine and takes his my left hand between his.

"Uh-huh. Besides, the party's tomorrow, right? Well, on Saturdays, everyone's going out. Dad will be busy pulling over drunk drivers," I explain and peck his right cheek. But then I have to swipe the faint lip balm stain off. He chuckles and drapes his arm around my shoulders. And I let him. That alone says a lot.

"Don't be a baby, Bella," Rosalie huffs in an exasperated manner. "We don't bite." Yes, she apologized and so did I, but we're nowhere near being besties. I can live with that.

"Whatever." Totally mature…

"Hey Shorty, hey Curly, hey Curly's sister, hey blondie, hey baby cousin, hey Eddie!" Emmett booms and ruffles both my and Edward's hair.

"Cut it out!"

"Fuck off, asshole!"

No need to tell who said what.

"Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you about that," he muses and takes a bite from his slice of pizza. And then half the slice is gone. Gotta love Emmett.

"You wanna talk about Bella's asshole?" Jasper questions. "Emmett, is there something you wanna tell us?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny, fuckface. I was talking about the curse. I went to that Greek restaurant in Port A and I- Yeah, um I broke a plate. This fat dude started yelling at me but wouldn't come out." Of course he didn't. I wouldn't, either. Emmett would snap me like a toothpick. "So, I told him that he's a pussy like you taught me, but he started laughing and waved me off. What was that about?"

"I don't know. What'd you tell him?" I ask. I'm positive he got it wrong.

"I said 'είσαι μονή'. That means 'pussy', right?" he winces.

"Emmett, no! You told him he's a nunnery. It's 'μουνί'. Jeesh," I sigh and both jess and Alice burst out laughing. they took some lessons, too.

"Hey," Rose exclaims. "Didn't that old hag also speak-"

"Yes," Edward interrupts her, "but _no_." _Forbidden topic?_

"Um…" I begin.

"Let's just say that her daughter –or rather step-daughter- was a little bit of a problem," Jasper explains.

"Is she gonna be there tomorrow?" I ask. Gotta stake my claim, you know?

"Oh, no, thank fuck for that! We left her skanky ass back in Chicago," Rosalie laughs.

"So, what are you guys wearing tomorrow night?" asks Alice. Attention diverted. I snuggle closer to Edward.

~*~TBL~*~

"Wow! You look… different," Edward stutters.

It is true, though. My hair is curled and in a high ponytail, unveiling my face. I keep my makeup very light using only foundation, mascara and some lip gloss, though I pay extra attention on my right eye and of course, my neck. Of course. I've also lost all my piercings, except the one on my nose, because that's not so bad. I don't want Mama Shrink and Papa Doc –isn't that a dude from "8 Mile"? - to think I'm a freak show. Which, I am, but they don't have to know.

"You're not so bad, yourself," I compliment half-heartedly. It's not that he looks bad, but he doesn't look like him. His hair is almost normal, instead of a shirt he wears a sleeveless T-shirt, his jeans –if they're his- are ripped and- Oh my God!

"What the fuck did you do to your eyes?!" I yell and grab his cheeks. Where are his glasses?

"I, uh, wore contacts?" it comes out like a question. But why, oh why, would he do something like that? His eyes aren't my favorite liquid teal color anymore. They're just green. Where did the blue go?

"Edward," I say softly, "you didn't have to do that. Besides the fact that they must be extremely uncomfortable, they're not you. I don't even recognize your eyes. It's all wrong."

"So, I should put my glasses back on?" he asks uncertain.

"Oh yes, please. And, come here." I motion for him to bend his head. Instead of kissing him, I run my hands through his soft hair, fucking it up completely. There's the messed up mayhem I love. Wait, what? Ah, _fuck it_.

"That's better," I smile up at him.

"It took me forty-five minutes to get it to stay in place," he sighs.

"I still think it's better," I peck him and take his hand. "Now we can go."

"Oh, I don't think so, missy," he says and pulls me back to his chest. "If I change," he pauses and releases my hair, "so will you."

I look down at my sleeveless lavender shirt and black dress pants. "You think?"

He gives me an once-over. "Really, Bella? Dress pants and flats aren't you. Go upstairs."

"What about you?" I ask pouting. I want my geeky Edward back.

He shrugs. "My glasses are in the glove department. I'll change clothes at home."

"Okay."

I dart up the stairs and run in my room. Not bothering to pick up my clothes, I shed them carelessly on the bed. After quickly putting my usual makeup on, I slip inside my strapless, black and purple checkered dress –I don't bother with a bra, it's useless, anyway- and black pumps. I retrieve my piercings, put them on carefully and change the one on my tongue with a purple one to match my dress and earrings. Last but not least, I wear my favorite statement ring on my middle finger. It's black, oval, gothic, huge and perfect, although too heavy for my ring finger. I check myself one last time; I grab my coat and purse and go back downstairs.

When I get to the last step, Edward freezes and his jaw goes slack. _Bingo._ I smile when I see his real eye color behind his thick-framed glasses, but his staring is making me feel self-conscious.

"Well?" I urge and bite my lip, stepping down the stairs.

"You are… you," he chuckles and takes a step closer. "And beautiful," one more step, "and stunning," and another, "and breathtaking." Encircling my waist with his arms, he dips down for a quick kiss.

"You're making me blush," I tease.

"Then you'll look even lovelier," he shoots back. As if on cue, I feel the embarrassing heat flooding my cheeks. "There it is," he gives a crooked smile and strokes my cheek with his knuckles.

"Shouldn't we get going?" I ask eager to change the subject. "We'll be late."

"I came to pick you up earlier, so I would do the introductions without an audience," he explains and ushers me out of the house with a hand on my lower back. He opens the passenger door for me, closes it behind me and goes around the car, sliding behind the wheel.

"By the way," he starts after a few moments, "I'm impressed by your speed. My sister takes twenty minutes only for her hair. You were ready in fifteen," he remarks, looking at my legs.

"Why don't you keep your eyes on the road, mister?" I tease, calling him out.

"And you should _reaaalllllly_ wear skirts more often," he drawls and we laugh.

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><p><strong>Translation: Καλημέρα Πασχαλίτσα = Good morning Ladybug<strong>

**Μονή = nunnery (moni)**

**Μουνί = pussy (mouni) As you see, there's a difference ;) Don't tell me you haven't thought of using your native language (if it's not english) in your stories! *raises brow***

**I told you it'd be a bit smaller than the previous one. This is mostly fluff, BUT shoot is about to hit the fan in the next chapters. So rest assured. Leave your thoughts on this and see you (sorta) next weekend!**

**Until next chapter…**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow. 1,400 views? I don't know what to say... Really, thank you. As I promised, this chapter is lemony, as a thank you! BUT, as you read it, think of it as the calm before the storm, you know what I mean? Yes, you do! I should shut up. **

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter Nine<p>

"Ready?" he asks and takes my hand in his.

"Does it matter?" I ask and cast a glance around me. "Look at me. They'll think I'm a junkie or something."

"Are you?" he cocks an eyebrow.

"Okay, that was below the belt," I say seriously as he opens the door to his house and lets me in for the first time. "I haven't had a smoke in fuck knows how long," I whisper and jut my lower lip out.

"Sorry," he whispers, mocking me and kisses my temple. "Mom!" he yells.

"I'm in the kitchen, dear," answers a female, voice.

"Come on." We walk across the hall, passing a spacious living room. The furniture, all in white, ivory and cream tones, is pushed back a little so there is enough room for the guests, I assume. On the left, next to the staircase, is a dining table full of snacks, drinks and sweets. In front of the ceiling-to-floor French doors that cover the entire far wall, stands a baby grand piano, overlooking the backyard, which is lit with lamps and garlands.

I walk up the glass steps carefully, hanging on Edward for dear life. The second floor is a little like the ground floor. There's a couch, an ottoman, a love chair, a coffee table and a large flat-screen, fully equipped. There are two or three speakers, too. We pass a corridor leading… somewhere and Edward steers us through the door in the far corner which I can only assume is the kitchen.

"Mom?" Edward and I enter the kitchen, still holding hands. My nerves have shot through the roof by now. For one thing, Papa Doc is nowhere to be seen, which means I'll have to go through that torture twice. For another, ugh, fuck it. I shouldn't have listened to Edward's advice. I should've kept Carrie's clothes on. Even if mid-thigh long dresses and pumps are acceptable, heavy makeup and facial piercings would be a no.

"I'm hoping you've changed cloth-" Mama Shrink turns around with a cake in her hands. And freezes, with her eyes on my face. I don't blame her.

In the few moments it takes her to compose herself, I examine her discreetly. So, that's what a mom is supposed to look like. Her hair looks like Edwards but darker and with more brown in it. It's curly like Rosalie's, half up, half down. Not a hair out of place. Clean face, high cheekbones and a nose in perfect harmony with her slightly painted lips. Her clear eyes, identical to Edward's, only have the faintest hint of crow's feet. Her ivory dress reaches her knees and matches her heels. She's topped it off with a pair of pearl earrings and a matching necklace. She looks like the definition of elegance. She's bound to be at least surprised, if not _scared_.

She clears her throat and gives me a strained smile, putting the cake on the granite counter. "Um, Edward?" she chuckles nervously. "Who's your friend?" she asks, chancing fleeting glances at the freak show runaway in front of her.

"Mom, this is Bella Swan, my girlfriend," Edward introduces me, looking mighty proud of "girlfriend". I would have smiled as well, if it weren't for Mama Shrink's terrified expression. Edward seems oblivious and continues. "Bella, this is my mother, Esme Cullen," he smiles down at me.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Cullen. Nice to meet you," I force a smile and stick my pale hand out for her to shake. "Um, your house is beautiful." Still staring –or glaring- at my and Edward's joined hands, she raises hers, too, and puts it in mine.

"Thank you dear. Pleased to make your acquaintance," she says robotically.

"Um, okay," Edward intervenes and we both retrieve our hands faster than we should. "I'm going to give her a tour of the house. Where's everyone, by the way?"

"Your siblings are still getting dressed and your father went to the bakery to get my birthday cake. He wanted it to be a surprise," she rolls her eyes lightly.

"Okay. Come on, Bella," he smiles exuberantly, tugging at my hand like a little boy. We walk through the corridor and Edwards starts counting off doors. "That's dad's office," we pass another door, "my parents' bedroom, Jasper's and Rosalie's. Come on, I'll show you the top floor!"

Affected by his enthusiasm, I allow myself to relax and run up the last flight of stairs with my hand firmly tucked in his.

"Hey, slow down," I say half-anxiously. "I can't exactly run with these death-traps," I chuckle nervously.

"Oh, sorry," he says, immediately slowing his pace. "Do you want a piggy-back ride?" he asks cheekily.

"Ha-ha, very funny, Gutpuke," I mock.

"Gut-what?" he questions, wide-eyed.

"You know," I start, "when someone is so ugly you want to puke your guts when you see him? Yeah…" I have a knack for that. Making up words. I'm like Shakespeare.

He laughs and shakes his head at me. "I don't even know how to respond to that," he says and kisses my hand.

When we reach the top of the stairs, he steers us left. "On the right are just my mom's office and the guestroom. We can go later, if you want. Dad's off limits. That's where we've locked anything of importance," he whispers conspiratorially.

Walking along the light gray-painted corridor, we pass some family photos and I just _have_ to pause.

"Aww, you were so cute," I coo. Edward is in the middle of the photo, behind a dining table. There's birthday cake both in front of and on him. In his wild hair, his cheek, his nose, his chin, even his light green Polo T-shirt was stained. He is missing a tooth, still he is grinning widely and his little glasses are giving off that annoying reflection.

"I'm turning seven here," he murmurs and wraps his hands around me from behind, resting his chin on my bare shoulder. "As you can see, my hair hasn't improved significantly," he chuckles through his nose and kisses my neck lightly.

"I love your hair," I murmur back and rub my hands over his forearms. "Don't you dare cut them or even comb them while I'm around, okay?" I demand sternly.

"Deal," he agrees and pulls on my hand to get me walking again. We pass more photos. Tea parties with Rosalie as a pink princess –of course- vacations, Christmas holidays and Halloweens. Edward groans at the last one. I find it swoon-worthy. Two-years-old, hair sticking up everywhere, cheeks and nose red because of the cold air, dressed in a teddy bear suit that matches his hair color. He looks edible and I tell him so. He groans again and whines, "_Bellaaaaaa_". I kiss the living shit out of him and apologize. I'm forgiven.

"Um, yeah, so this is my room. Now, don't judge. I tried my best, but there's only so much a geek can do to look less geeky."

"Edward, no matter how bad your room looks, it can't possibly be worse than mine," I cross my arms in front of me.

"You have a point there," he mumbles.

"Hey, I heard that!" I exclaim and hit his chest lightly.

"What?"

"Just open the fucking door, Edward." _Men…_

He runs a hand through his stuck up copper hair _again_ and turns the knob. "Explore away."

Taking a step inside, I don't see anything out of place. The room is gorgeous, of course. Big and spacious. The whole north wall is made of glass, overlooking the thick forest. A black, leather couch has been placed in front of it, papers and school books littered all over it. On the west wall there are double French doors, right across the door. His king-sized bed is in the middle of the room, in front of a huge bookcase that takes up the whole wall, elevated and covered with a golden duvet. There is no desk, but I see a laptop and a folding board on the shelf next to his headboard. He must study on his bed. The rest of the shelves are filled with numerous books, CDs and vinyl disks, movies and PC games. Lots of them. On either side of his bed, there are doors. They must be his walk-in closet and his bathroom. Next to the French doors, there's a long rectangular bulletin board with more pictures, awards, stickers, tickets and autographs. I drop my coat and purse on the couch and head towards it.

"I had a feeling you'd go for that," I hear him behind me.

I examine the pictures closely. Picnics, sled sliding, some of my drawings –naww- chess club… "Hey," I exclaim, staring at a specific photo, instantly jealous. He can't be older than sixteen. "You've been to New Orleans?" Lucky bastard.

"Two summers ago. It was my sweet sixteen birthday present, courtesy of my grandparents. My parents got me the Volvo," he smiles smugly, confident now that it's not his money I'm after. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he says and steps back, "my mother thinks I look hideous and my girlfriend seems to agree. I have to go change."

"You can leave your hat on…" I start to sing and he laughs. Opening the door on the left, he walks in and I can see him taking his torn tee off before it closes. The subtle muscles on his back flex deliciously and so do his biceps and _ugh_…

Unable to control my crazed hormones, I make my way over there, open the door quietly and step in. Edward's tight, boxer-clad ass greets me. His head is bent and he's buttoning his shirt. Lust takes over and I bite my lip.

"Why don't you forego the clothes altogether? You'll look better, anyway," I muse, licking my lips, and he turns around, startled.

"Bella? Don't you want to wait outside?" he asks, his ears hitting up a little, but I don't pay him any attention. His shirt hangs open and I can see his chiseled chest. Besides, he owns me. I took my top off yesterday. Shouldn't he reciprocate?

"Nah, I'm good. I love the view," I smile a little and go to him. He seems surprised by my zeal, but willing nonetheless. My hands go up his arms, over his shoulders and around his neck, in his hair. He encircles me with his arms and opens his mouth immediately, moaning. I can feel him, hard and ready, pressing and twitching against my abdomen. It turns me on like nothing else, knowing I have this effect on him, that I have this power. He turns his head slightly to have better access to my mouth and I do the same. His hand leaves its spot on my waist and descends to my ass, giving it a light squeeze as the other burrows in my hair, keeping my head in place. I groan and drag my black nails over his chest, getting a hiss and a bite on my lip. His lips find my sweet spot behind my ear as my hand follows his happy trail down his stomach.

"Ugh, Bella," he groans when I palm him over his tented underwear, rubbing and squeezing.

"Shhh," I whisper and with that I drop to my knees. I take his boxers down and his engorged cock springs free. Biting my lip in anticipation, I reach out with my thumb and swipe the beading pre-cum over his head.

Its size never ceases to surprise me. I had thought, just like any other girl, that Edward and I would have sex eventually. I was even looking forward to it, a first for me. Last time, I was with someone, it was merely a distraction from the failure previous to it. And to piss off Volturi, I'll admit. But after I first saw Edward's cock… Um, yeah, that's gonna hurt. A lot. The dude's huge.

"Oh, God," he moans and threads his fingers in my hair when I lick him repeatedly from base to tip, running my tongue over his vein. "You know you don't have to do this, right?" he pants, his pitch rising. Ever the gentleman. He had said the same thing when I first blew him a few days ago. Up and down, slowly, to work him up further, I put my piercing to use. He seems to like it, if his jerky breaths are any indication.

"Uh-huh," I answer and take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue piercing over his tip. As I said, I've already given him a couple of blowjobs and no one forced me. I simply love his cock. Just big enough to not fit in my mouth completely. It's a bit of a struggle, but I jerk what doesn't fit with my hand. Bobbing my head up and down, I reach up to massage his balls and place a hand on his ass to give me leverage. I go a little faster; I can tell he's close. He's a teenage boy after all, with little to zero experience. He doesn't last long. He grunts and bucks subconsciously in my mouth a little, his body seeking a release.

"Shit, Bella, stop," he warns just before he cums. Last time, I did pull away, but now I don't. I'm curious, I guess. I wanna see what he tastes like. I've never swallowed before.

"Bella, I'm serious," he tries again and his hands in my hair tighten. I don't pay him any mind and redouble my efforts, I hum around him, hollowing out my cheeks and grazing my teeth over that little underside vein.

"Bell- shiit!" he curses as comes in my mouth in three hot spurts. It feels strange, foreign, but not completely unpleasant. Okay, that's bullshit. It's a little disgusting, but I can manage. The look on his face is priceless. I lick him clean and release his flaccid cock from my mouth.

"How was it?" I smile smugly up at him.

"Jesus Bella!" he exclaims, pulling me up and kisses me before I can tell him not to.

"Aren't you supposed to be grossed out?" I ask, puzzled.

He shrugs. I shrug back and purse my lips, not really knowing the protocol, either.

"Still, what was that? Not that I didn't enjoy it, but-"

"I don't know," I cut him off before he can start explaining himself. "I just felt like it. You should be grateful, anyway," I look at him sideways, teasingly.

"Oh, but I am," he smiles and dips down to kiss me again. His hands slide down to my ass with purpose, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh, and he hauls me up. Instinctively, I wrap my legs firmly around his waist and my arms go around his neck.

Wordlessly, he walks us out of the wardrobe, his pants forgotten, and lays me in the middle of the soft bed.

"Remember what I promised the other day?" he whispers huskily and starts with sucking behind my ear, making his way to my sternum. Pleasure courses through me and I shudder.

"Mmm, Edward," I moan. For someone who's never seen boobs before, he sure knows what to do with them. I look forward to feeling his mouth on my chest again. The dull ache in my pussy intensifies and I squirm beneath him.

"Do you, Bella?" he asks again, biting on my collarbone. Actually, I do remember, but he can't mean _that_. Because he promised, after the first time I went down on him, that he would reciprocate as soon as he knew how to do it properly. Another first for me. His caressing hands go up, up, up my ribcage until he reaches the underside of my average-sized breasts. With expert movements he frees them from the confines of my dress. His hands knead the pliant mounts gently and he brushes my sensitive nipples with the pads of his thumbs. His lips leave my mauled neck and kiss down my chest, never stopping until he takes a pebbled peak in his mouth and sucks hard. The contradiction between his soft caresses and aggressive suction is enough to drive me insane.

"Baby," I moan, vaguely aware of the fact that I'm getting louder than I should.

"You don't have too high expectations, I'm hoping," he whispers and drags my hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of my parted legs. "I've done my research of course, but…" he rubs his hands up my thighs, bunching my dress up, and pulls my lacy thong down, his eyes never leaving my flushed face, "I guess practice makes perfect, rig- _fuuuuck_," he moans when he sees my bare, soaked pussy for the first time and that's when I realize in my fogged mind that Edward's speech was practiced, which is okay. He is a lot of things, sweet, funny, gentle, but he is not bold or crude and I wouldn't have him any other way. That particular brainwave stops when I see him leaning in, staring at my pussy.

"You are perfect, Ladybug," he murmurs against the skin of my thigh and kisses the slight scar on my left hip. He knows about it by now. He knows about all of them.

"Please, Edward baby, please, don't tease me," I moan and thread my hands in his hair, throwing my head back.

He leaves a feather light kiss on my clit, just to test the waters. I hiss and shudder. He flattens his tongue and drags it over my slick slit, from bottom to top, until he reaches my throbbing clit. He flicks it with his tip and sucks lightly. Groans escape me all the time and I push his head closer to me. I raise my shaking legs and place them on neither side of his head, on his shoulders.

"You taste so good, Bella," he groans and probes my entrance with his middle finger as his tongue and thumb rub my clit relentlessly. I'm a panting mess. Wetness pools between my legs and he spreads it around, before gliding a long finger inside me with ease. He pulls it back and thrusts it back in. His tongue never falters in rhythm and my moans and groans rise in pitch by the second.

"Shhh," he whispers against my core. "They might here," he warns and sucks on my clit again, bringing his teeth in the game. I moan louder in response. He puts a second, long finger in me and thrusts harder. I can _hear_ how wet I am. The knot in my belly tightens painfully. What he is doing to me feels so good. I push my head back in the mattress and groan some more.

"Edward, I'm close!" I moan.

He complies wordlessly by speeding up his movements. The pitch of my moans escalates. Electricity zings through my body continuously, traveling down south. I pull at his hair and reach up to fondle my breasts, tugging and pulling at my pebbled nipples. Just when I think I'm about to go crazy, he curls his fingers upwards, finding a spot I didn't even know existed and sucks hard on my clit with his teeth.

"Edward!" I scream as the coil snaps inside me, his name stifled by my own hand. He keeps licking me, drinking from me, until my orgasm subsides and I regain coherence. He brings me back with slow kisses on my thighs.

As my breathing evens out, he raises his head, hovering above me, and looks at me sheepishly through his dark eyelashes.

"Uh, how was it?" he asks warily. "I'm not sure about some points of the procedure. I think I've got them right, but I can't be positive-"

I grab his face and pull him down for a rough kiss, cutting him off. There he is. Shy and apprehensive. I got worried for a second.

"That," my turn to pant, "was awesome. And we're sooo doing that again," I giggle and kiss him again, moaning when I taste myself on him. His hand cups me again, his thumb rubbing my clit and his finger circling my entrance, and I slap it away.

"Too soon?" he asks, frowning.

"Too sensitive," I answer. "Go finish getting dressed and I'll clean up in the bathroom."

"All right." He stands up and retrieves my thong. "On second thought," he stares at his hand as I reach mine out, "I want to keep that. As a trophy or something."

"Edward, there's no way I'm facing your parents again without underwear! You can have them later, if you're a good boy," I smile coyly.

"Fine," he sulks and hands them over. He goes in the walk-in closet and I go to freshen up, shit-eating grins on both of our faces.

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><p><strong>So, was it good? What did you think of Esme? Next week, Carlisle will grace us with his presence.<strong>

**The song I mention is "You can leave your hat on" by Joe Cocker**

**Thank you for reading! Please leave me your thoughts! **

**See you next week...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh, My God! 2,000 views!? You guys! *blushing* Thank you SO much! Seriously, that means a lot.**

**Okay, so, I watched 50SoG and, well, it could be better... But, it was kinda hot and I just loved playful Christian/Jamie. I smell a new celebrity crush in the air. Who's with me? **

**Just something quick so there is no confusion with the dates and ages, keep in mind that I wrote this story in 2014, although I publish it now. Okay? Good.**

**Oh, and make sure you have a tissue nearby, because this is it. The chapter I've been waiting for. Remember what I told you the last chapter was? Yeah...**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter Ten<p>

"Nice to meet you, too, Dr. Cullen," I smile genuinely as he closes the refrigerator behind him. That was relatively painless. Edward is the spitting image of his father, only Dr. Carlisle Cullen is blond with Jasper's and Rosalie's blue eyes, and somewhat older, obviously. Apart from that, they are completely alike. Same height, identical crazed hair and crooked smile, smooth talkers the both of them.

"Please, just call me Carlisle. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you two arrived, but I had to go out for a second," he apologizes in his British accent and I see where Edward got his chivalrous ways from. As Alice never forgets to tell me, Jasper's the same. "Can I get you anything to drink as an apology for my tardiness?" he smiles.

"I'll do that," Edward butts in and heads for the massive, high-tech fridge. "Jeez, Dad, you already got a woman. No need to take mine, too. Mom's enough," he pouts and I laugh, kissing him on the cheek.

"Fine, fine, I'm out. I'll go make sure everything's in place for the party. Our guests will be arriving any moment. Again, lovely to meet you, Isabella," he kisses my hand and leaves.

"Damn charmer," Edward grumbles and slams the carton of juice on the counter. "Gonna take my girl, as if it's not hard enough to keep her as it is," he mumbles.

"You don't have anything to worry about, baby," I whisper in his ear and lick his shell lightly. He shudders and his tense shoulders sag in pleasure. "You _should_ know, right? I don't open up within a week for no reason," I smile, running my fingers through his fucked-up hair. Yeah, it's different now. I'd been so stupid before.

"You're right," he smiles back. "That was pretty spectacular," he pushes his chest forward.

"Whatever. Come on, lover boy, before it gets packed in here," I laugh and grab his hand and the juice, dragging him out to sit in the backyard.

~*~TBL~*~

"Did your mother design the garden, too?" I ask, looking at the twinkling lights that adorn the magnolias and the big willow in the center. Smaller flowers, mums, tulips and freesias are strewn around the freshly cut lawn.

The irony is not lost in me. Magnolias and freesias are all I can smell here. Carrie would've loved this garden. I touch my ribcage gingerly.

We are currently huddled together, his arm around my waist and my head on his shoulder, sitting in a bench near the French doors, so we can still see inside. The party's going strong. This time, we've brought our coats and a blanket with us, because we didn't think about it before. I froze my ass off. Luckily, we didn't stay long.

We'd barely finished our drinks when we got called back in. Alice, Emmett, family, family friends, Esme's and Carlisle's colleagues. Edward had to greet everyone, and I had to endure with him, because he wouldn't let go of me.

"_Please_," he whispered, "_don't leave me alone, they'll eat me alive_." And I agreed. I'm paying for it now.

On the other hand, I'm learning things about him and his family, too. Now, I know his mother has a sister, Siobhan. She and her husband, Liam, live in Seattle with their daughter, Maggie. They're the relatives Edward had once told me about and they couldn't be more Irish if they tried. They were redheads like Edward and Esme, pink cheeks, a bit tipsy, chugging beer as if it's milk, the whole nine yards.

I also met Eleazar and Carmen. Edward introduced them as his uncle and aunt, but Eleazar had in fact, attended medical school with Carlisle. They have three daughters, Tanya, who is our age, a pubescent Kate who hates the world "because it's full of fucking shit", and a five-year-old cutie, Irina.

Last but not least, I found out Tanya is a major slut. Seriously, she hasn't stopped eye-fucking Edward since she stepped foot through the door. _How dare you, bitch? Mine!_

"_Oh ma Gawd, Edward, I haven't seen you in, like, sooo long!"_

"_I love your shirt. The color looks so great on you, I can't even!"_

And then of course, she turned to me._ "So, Bertha, how long have you guys been together? Like, it can't be too long, right?" _Cue chewing gum pop.

You get the point.

After socializing –and enduring- for a while, I escaped to talk with Alice and Jess, but Esme swooped in and stole her future adoptive daughter, so Edward and I decided to make an escape. So, we ended up in the Cullens' backyard again.

"Are you cold, Ladybug?" Edward murmurs and kisses my forehead.

"Nah, I'm good," I sigh and snuggle closer, burying my nose in his neck. He smells so _good_ in there.

"We'll have to head back inside in a minute or two, you know. Don't get too comfortable," he chuckles and tightens his arm around me. Oh, yes. Edward will play the "Happy birthday" song on the piano for his mother. I wonder if he is good, but, come on; it's Edward we're talking about. He'll nail it.

"But we just got out here," I whine and jut my lower lip out.

"You think?" he grins and kisses my pout. "We've been sitting here talking for almost an hour."

"Oh, well, time flies I guess," I shrug. Especially, when you don't just talk but also make out. And I may or may not have noticed Tanya –or even Esme- glaring at us from time to time. But, hey, a girl's gotta go what a girl's gotta do. I need to mark my fucking territory.

"Come on," he stands up and gives me his hand. "We'll cut the cake and then we can disappear again," he smiles.

"Where to this time?"

"Well, usually I lock myself up in my room and avoid everyone, more or less. Parties are not my thing. But since you're here, we can go to my mother's study. You know, more pictures," he gives me a pointed look as we walk through the French doors.

"Yes," I hiss and he laughs at my exuberance. I'll have my hands full with his sketches. Besides, I sort of need these pictures to make sure this kind of life exists, too. The carefree kind, with loving parents and annoying siblings. _God, I have issues._

Everyone has gathered in the living room and Edward takes his place behind the piano. I don't stand far away, chatting with Alice again. She, too, is astonished with the house. A few moments later, Carlisle emerges from the kitchen upstairs and walks down the stairs carefully, holding a huge cake. He sets it in front of a smiling Esme and kisses her lightly. Edward starts the song and everyone sings "Happy birthday" to Esme, but I stare at him.

Bent slightly over the keyboard, focused, a small frown concentration wedged between his eyebrows, long, skilled fingers flying over the ivory keys. Crooked smirk in place, he sings softly along with everyone else, and I can tell this baby grand has potential. Not yet. Right.

Esme blows out the candles and everyone erupts in cheers and applauding. Edward gets up, but his mother stops him.

"Play something else, dear," she asks. "Play my favorite." _Play it once, Sam. For old time's sake._

The melody Edward's playing, however, doesn't resemble "As Time Goes By" at all. It's soft. esme smiles at her son and the guests stand mesmerized at the musical genius before them. A little biased, but he's really good.

"I need to make Jasper play his guitar for me one day," alice whispers in my ear, "because if this runs in the family… dayum. I'm gonna have my hands full," she giggles and elbows me lighly.

As the melody comes to an end, it morphs onto a different sound, even more soothing than the last. A lullaby. It sounds beautiful, a little melancholic. Edward seems almost nervous as he plays. I glance at his parents momentarily and their jaws hang open, as well. Haven't they heard him before? Or is this new, something he found recently? I can only sit and listen enraptured, as Edward plays the last notes of the lullaby. As he finishes, no one moves. No one makes a sound. And then…

"Woo-hoo! Go, Eddie!" Emmett.

That breaks everyone out of their stupor and they start clapping, me harder than everyone else. I even whistle. Edward rises out of his piano bench and extends his hand to me, pulling me to sit with him on the couch, as the crowd scatters and starts mingling again. Siobhan approaches, holding two plates with cake.

"There ye go," she smiles.

"Cheers, Auntie," answers Edward.

"Ye sure ye don't want something to eat, sweetings? Ye have to put some love on this body, ye know?" she winks at me.

"She's kind of right. You look too thin, Ladybug," Edward remarks. _Well, that's a first. I've never been called thin before._ "I'm just saying I wouldn't mind if you had an extra candy now and then. You're skinnier than when I first met you. It is kind of worrying me."

"I'm fine. I promise." Who knew Mr. Cullen loves his ladies with love handles? "And thank you," I tell his aunt. I really like her.

She smiles and leaves us alone.

"Edward, that song was beautiful," I say and take a bite.

"Really, you liked it?" he asks sheepishly and sets his plate down. In his defense, the piece of cake was small.

"Loved it! Whose is it?" I wanna download it.

"Um, it was me, Bella." Huh? "I wrote it," he clarifies and takes my hand when he sees I'm done. He stands up and leads up the stairs, to his mother's office, I assume.

"What, really?" I ask stupidly, when we reach the third floor.

"Uh, yeah," he rubs his neck and stops us outside his mother's office door. "I wrote it for you, actually," he cringes. My mouth drops open. "Don't get mad, but, yeah, when I saw you curled up in your bed that day… I don't know, you looked so small, so fragile. And then you showed me what you had made, so I decided to put my thoughts on paper. Or music sheet," he chuckles uncomfortably. "Say something," he pleads.

"Now, I love it even more," I blubber and throw myself at him, my lips land roughly on his. He catches me and presses me lightly against the wall, towering over me. Not in a sexual manner, just to support me. I'm overwhelmed. He's too much. Too nice. Too good for me. But _I'm_ too selfish to let go.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I mumble against his lips. No one's ever done something like that for me.

"You're welcome," he smiles and brushes his knuckles against my cheek. "If that's the reaction I get for one piece, I'll write an opera for you."

"No need. You'll only make Kleenex rich," I giggle thickly. He kisses the top of my hand.

"Still want to go in?"

"Yeah, let's go!" I pull at his hand.

It looks like… well, a shrink's office. There's a big, mahogany desk, a plush chair behind it, two matching chairs in front of it, and a chaise longue with an armchair next to the big window. I make a beeline for the tall bookcase that takes up the whole wall behind the desk. I soak up hungrily the images, the smiles, the different locations, and then I freeze. Completely. My smile drops. My breathing hitches and then stops altogether. My hands are clammy. Esme is in the middle, with two other ladies on either side of her. The caption says "reforestation 2013". There must be a mistake.

"What did you get here?" Edward comes up behind me and looks over my shoulders. He doesn't realize that I'm dying. Fuck, my chest feels tight.

"Who…?" I breathe out. I don't have the strength, enough breath, for more.

"Oh, that was a project of our school. Parents could participate. That lady on the left is my ex-history teacher," he explains. And the other one? Tell me about the other one. Tell me she's your bastard kid, I don't care. Just, give me an answer, damnit. I need it. _So much._

"And the other?" I whisper when he doesn't answer. I'm getting impatient. My eyes prickle with tears. What fuckery is this? Is this a prank? Jesus, that smile. It's so fucking familiar. I haven't seen it in over five years.

"Oh, yeah. Well, she's Maria Dwyer. She's the old hag Rose had told you about at lunch on monday." I want to tell him not to call her that. To scream at him to get on with his narration, because I'm hanging from a thread. I want to thrash. I stay still.

"Well, long story short, her step-daughter, Heidi, had picked up on what had happened in Junior High and tried to do the same." Step-daughter. That girl was not hers. I don't give a fuck. Tell me about the- _her_.

"Edward?"

"She tried to make everyone believe that she was pregnant by me, because apparently, we had been seen together at a party Jazz had dragged me to. I don't remember a thing from that party, I swear."

"Edward?" I try again a little louder, tears streaming silently down my face. I want to know, I really do. But I can't fucking focus. I cant bring myself to care. What about Heidi's step-fucking-mother? Where did she come from? Is she still alive? Is she… Could she be the same person? _Fuck, that hurts._

"Eventually, the truth came out," he sighs and I can sense him running his hand through his hair and pinch the bridge of his nose. "But I was too shaken up from it. We all were. I thought I was done with all this. I was keeping to myself, but they seemed unable to let go. So, we decided to come here. The deal Dad got with the hospital helped, of course…"

"Edward!" I scream, turning around. "Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! I don't give a fucking shit about that Heidi bitch!" I yell and drop to the floor, sobs wracking my body. I clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle my wails to no avail.

"Hey, hey, what is it?" Edward drops next to me, not even acknowledging the harsh way I spoke to him. He gathers me in his arms and leans against the bookcase, prying my hand off my mouth and hugging me tightly. My face is buried in his chest. "What is it, Ladybug? Please, tell me." He sounds anguished.

"That woman, Edward," I gasp out. I don't have enough air. There's no air. No space. Still, I hold onto Edward as if my life depends on it. I squeeze his hands to get him to squeeze me in return. He understands and holds me even more tightly, if that were possible.

"Let it out, Ladybug," he murmurs and kisses my hair. "Whatever it is, let it out."

We stay on the same spot for hours, it seems, but it could only be minutes. He's stroking my hair, my arms, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. He's trying to calm me down. I, on the other hand… I bawl my eyes out, ruining Edward's crisp shirt in the process, and hang on to him. I try. I try to make sense. I try to get some fucking clarity, because _this_, what I just saw and heard, it doesn't make any fucking sense. Everything plays on repeat. Everything he's ever told me. Every time he's put the blame on me, every bruise that wasn't his fault, because I bruise easily.

"_Useless kid."_

"_Wasting space."_

"_You've taken away everyone I love, one by fucking one!"_

"_It was your fault my Carrie lost control of that fucking car."_

"_Always a fucking burden." _

"_You drove your own mother away!" _

"_Why did she have to die?"_

Do I dare hope? Is it even possible? I'm mourning ever since I remember myself, and now… So, so close.

The pressure in my head feels as if it'll explode.

"Shhh, it's alright," I hear Edward in the distance, cooing at me. He is so patient with me. Too good. I don't deserve him. He just told me what's been burdening him all along, his biggest secret. The reason his whole family moved, and I'm just- fuck! I can't afford to think about that, too, now. Not now. Too much.

I raise my head slightly and he tilts my chin up, brushing my never-ending tears away with his thumbs.

"What is it, Ladybug? What…? I can't think of anything that would make you react like this…"

"Edward," I whimper like a fucking weakling. I really am pathetic.

"Yes?"

"Edward, that's my mom, right there. That lady on the right is my mom, my fucking mom!"

~*~TBL~*~

The tears won't stop coming. Edward tries to talk to me after I calm down just a bit, he tries to understand. But how can I explain _anything_ when I understand shit myself?

"But, I thought your mother was, uh…, you know. Um, gone. You never talked about her, never mentioned her. You didn't even acknowledge her, as you do with your sister. I figured-"

"No," I cut him off, sniffling. I smile in thanks when he hands me another tissue. "My mum… She- my _dad_ said she left. That she left us because of me," I hiccup.

"Why would she do that? It doesn't make any sense," he asks, looking confused.

"Oh, but it does," I chuckle humorlessly. "My mother was only eighteen when she had Carrie. And then I came along… it was too much for her. I mean, I know I'm hard to be around, but I honestly didn't think that I would drive her away," I whimper.

"Bella, no!" Edward says firmly. "Your father lied, I know a little of her story. She had told mom that she'd been forced to leave home. There's no way she'd leave you willingly. Something else happened, it was not you."

I shake my head in disbelief. "No, listen to me, Isabella," Edward commands and grips my chin lightly, forcing me to look at him in the eye. "You're beautiful. You're smart, funny, wonderful, easy-going, an amazing baker. The list goes on and on, really. Everything about you draws me in. How could anyone want to leave you, Ladybug?" he asks softly and the floodgates open up again. He sighs and pulls me to him, hugging me tightly, knowing that's what I need right now.

I want to believe him, so much. But I can't. He must be wrong. I've been told over and over, that I'm the opposite of what he said. I'm the freak, the Black Widow, a bad student, useless, a big spender, a waste of space. A burden. He can't possibly mean what he said. He's only saying those stuff to placate me.

"Trust me, Ladybug," he kisses the top of my head, reading my mind again. "I mean what I said. You're perfect. I wouldn't change anything on you."

Yeah, right. I would change everything, if I could. Then, maybe they wouldn't all leave me. There must be something wrong with me. There must be a reason Charlie beats me up. It's not right, I know that much, but it must be justified. Mom chose to leave me and marry someone who had another daughter. That is enough proof that I'm not enough. She'd rather have someone else's daughter than her own. I'm an awful person.

"I have to go," I stand up quickly and wipe my cheeks.

"Where are you going?" Edward asks concerned. _Always the worrier._

"I have to go home. I want to ask him. I want to know. I _need_ to know," I press.

"I'm coming with you," he says determined, standing up.

"Edward-"

"I'll wait outside in my car if you want. But I'm not leaving you alone with that bastard," he growls.

For the first time, I don't correct him. I'm quite pissed at my dad, as well. Fucking hell, I'm livid. Can Edward be right? Is everything dad told me a lie? All this guilt I've felt over the years for taking mom away and then my sister. Could it be that I'm not responsible? That I'm not at fault, for once?

~*~TBL~*~

During the ride home, we don't talk. My mind goes a mile a minute, reeling with what Esme revealed. When my tears had eventually stopped, Edward left the office and went to fetch his mother. I was a bit embarrassed to tell the truth, but I was beyond caring. I had to know.

"_Oh, Bella dear, um, is everything alright?" Esme hesitates, stunned, when she sees me sitting on her chaise longue, eyes red and puffy, my face blotched, makeup ruined._

"_Um, Mom, do you remember Mrs. Dwyer?" Edward begins and takes a seat next to me, taking my slightly shaking hand in his. _

"_Yes, I do. Exceptional lady she was. I wouldn't say the same for her step-daughter, though. I trust you've talked to Bella?" she questions and picks up a chair, sitting in front of me._

"_Yes, I have. Um, I have some questions for her. I know you've talked a bit, right?" Edward scratches the back of his neck awkwardly._

"_She has, indeed, confided in me, Edward, but that's between her and me. It's confidential. You can't expect me to-"_

"_Mrs. Cullen, please," I butt in, unable to control myself. "It's of paramount importance that you tell me about her. She's… she might be someone I've been looking for. Please," I try, using my best phraseology. _

"_Okaayy," she drawls, reminding me of Edward. I can see the gears in her head, turning. She doesn't seem to have gotten it yet, but she does study me a bit more carefully. "Well, from what I know, she was trapped in an abusive marriage. She fled, with the prospect of returning and getting her children, but she found out her husband had somehow framed her for drug possession and sale. When she confronted him, she said she barely made it out alive," she shakes her head. "I really felt for her. She doesn't know where her babies are. She doesn't even know her baby girl's name," she sniffles._

"_So, she wanted them?" I ask, afraid to hope. I'm- no, confused is not a word strong enough to describe the mindfuck._

"_What mother doesn't want her children Isabella?" Esme smiles softly at me and it seems genuine, for the first time tonight. "I don't know your reasons for asking me about her, though I'm confident I have a pretty good idea. Whenever you want, just tell me. I still have her number."_

_Without realizing it, I'm off my seat, hugging her. "Thank you, Mrs. Cullen," I whisper thickly._

"_You're welcome dear. And, it's Esme," she rubs my back, the universal sign for "I hope you feel better, now get off me, you're creeping me out", and I release her._

_Edward stands up and takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. "Let's go."_

I'm out the door before Edward kills the engine. I rush up the porch steps and see the lights are on. He's home. Throwing the door open, I take my shoes off, throwing them carelessly besides the door, and go straight in the living room. I can hear a game playing.

"Dad? Dad!" I yell.

"Well, well, well. Look who found their way back ho-home," he slurs drunkenly, still wearing his gun belt. He disgusts me.

"Get the fuck up," I growl, my hands in tight fists.

"Don't talk to me like that, Isabella," he yells and stands up abruptly, throwing the empty beer can on the floor.

"Why did mom leave?" I spit out, unfazed for once by his advancing steps towards me.

He freezes for a second. "What?"

"I said, why did mom leave? Why did she leave us?" I demand.

"You little bitch," he chuckles humorlessly, "you have the nerve to ask me that? If you," he points at me, "hadn't been born, Eirini would still be with us!" he yells and knocks the side table over.

"For fuck's sake, Charlie, cut the fucking bullshit," I explode and jab him in the chest with my finger. "I know the fucking truth, alright? I know you beat the shit out of her, just like you do with me. I know she tried to escape, run away from you. But I don't understand," I heave, my face flushed, "why wouldn't _you_ want her here? Why would you make her leave us? It was you who took our mother away! Why did you do it?!" I scream.

"Because she was a fucking whore!" he screams and slaps me so hard I lose my balance and fall, hitting my still-sore ribs at the coffee table. "Because she was fucking half the town!" he growls and kicks me with his steel-toed boot. _Fuck, my ribs feel shattered. _He's paranoid."Because, I doubt you are even mine to begin with, Isabella! She had to pay! Do you have any idea how I felt? Do you know how it feels to be so betrayed?" he yells in my face.

"I do, actually," I whisper, wiping my lip with the back of my hand.

"What the fuck did you say?" he growls lowly.

"You're my motherfucking father, Charlie!" I cough. "How do you think it feels when you get hit by the one person that's supposed to protect you from all evil?" I look up at him with all the courage I can muster.

"You're the fucking evil, Bella! You ruined my fucking life! You're the fucking proof that Renée wasn't faithful to me!" he yells and punches me in the eye again.

My body is buzzing with blinding pain, so much that I'm pretty sure Charlie will kill me. Still, this time it's okay, because I know. I know that he's lying. Or that what he believes to be true is not. I look just like him, for God's sake. I couldn't be more _his,_ even if I tried.

Charlie bends to pick me up, already cutting the circulation off my arm and leaving a deep purple imprint of his large hand, as he squeezes my wrist too tightly, the bones grinding together. He goes for my stomach once again, when there's a rap on the door.

"Bella? Bella!" _Edward_.

"Who the fuck is that?" Charlie hisses.

"No-no one," I cough out. God-fucking-damnit, edward!

"Couldn't go for long without someone to fuck, huh? You little slut!" he yells. He reaches for his gun and pistol whips me in the head.

Nausea. Black spots appear before my eyes and I fall to the floor with a thud, the rug leaving burns on my palms and knees. My vision gets too blurry. My head is throbbing. My lungs burn from his kicks. I can't take a proper breath, I'm gasping. Somewhere in the distance, I hear some yelling, but I can't be sure, my ears ring. I try to get up, but there's a loud crash, and suddenly something –someone- grabs me by the left ankle. Charlie. He drags me closer to him.

"No, please. No," I whimper.

"Shut your fucking mouth, you useless cow!" he roars and stomps with his foot where his hairy hand was mere seconds ago. Pain erupts from my lower leg and I scream out.

Someone else, don't know who, snarls, and two shadows tumble to the floor in front of me, where I barely support myself on my hand and elbow, leaning forward. The two blurry figures roll around, things flaring –hands? One of them has a weird glow on his head. Is that a halo? Don't be stupid, Bella! Focus! That's hair. Edward! Edward is fighting with Charlie. I try to yell at him, to tell him to run, to save himself, to kick Charlie as much as possible on his right knee, because he had gotten shot there once. Nothing comes out. A lump is stuck in my throat and I can't get rid of it, no matter how hard I swallow. My dizziness worsens, but I try to fight it back. With every ounce of energy I have left, I take a deep breath and yell.

"Edward, leave!"

"Bella!" his head whips around to look at me, still blurry as fuck. A darker shadow moves menacingly behind him, pinning him down, more fists flying. The sound of the hits is sickening.

Suddenly, there's a big commotion outside. Tires screeching to a halt, orders are being barked out. The front door is thrown open. Heavy steps pound on the floor.

Two shots ring out simultaneously.

Edward lets out a pain-filled cry and I can barely see him falling to the floor.

Darkness wins over and my eyes close.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooh, a cliffie... I think that's a first. So, what did you think? Who saw that coming? We have Carlisle and I'd love to have Siobhan as my aunt. All was good and merry and then BOOM! Once again, it had to happen, sorry. So, give me your thoughts. What did you think of the last scene? <strong>

**Don't leave me hanging you guys!**

**Until next chapter...**

**Fairy xoxoxo**


	11. Chapter 11

**God, I'm so excited! I'm going to Santorini for four days on a school trip! Twenty days can't pass fast enough! It's gonna be epic, I just know it!**

**Now, back to our story. Who's ready for more? I've decided I'm wrapping this up, maybe two more chapters. I'll think about futuretakes. Any ideas from you are most certainly welcome. Also, if there's anything you feel hasn't been cleared yet, just tell me and I'll try to fix it.**

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eleven<p>

My head feels heavy, about to explode. I don't dare move, it hurts too much. I can hear papers ruffling and shoes squaking on the floor. There's someone in the room I'm in. Suddenly, there's more noise. I want to wince at the sudden sound and tell the asshole to shut the fuck up, but I can't even do that.

"What did I miss?" someone whispers in a concerned voice and I vaguely hear a door closing softly. Edward?

"They took her off the sedatives. I estimate she'll wake up sometime tonight." Gentle voice, a heavy British accent. It must be Carlisle.

"Oh, thank God." A sigh full of relief. This voice is familiar, one I'd recognize anywhere. That's definitely Edward.

"It's only been a day, Edward. Be reasonable."

"Almost two Dad! She's been out for two days because of that monster!" he huffs. "Did you contact her?"

"Your mother said she couldn't reach her, but she'll try again tonight…"

The voices drift away. I try to tell them to stop worrying, that I'm awake and okay, but I can't. It's like I don't have control over my own body. I also try to lift my hand. Still nothing. My head is pounding and I get dizzy. Their voices fade in the distance, a humming buzz, lulling me back to sleep.

~*~TBL~*~

When I regain my senses, I take a minute before opening my eyes very slowly, as to not get dizzy again. I don't try to move my hand, it's numb. Slow moves. Gentle moves. That's the protocol. I try to think how I ended up getting beaten again, but I only get flashes. I remember being over at Edward's. My God, when Esme told me told me about Eirini… I was both elated and frightened. With a newfound determination, I make a mental note to seek her out, secretly from Charlie, of course. I need to know _more_. But, I know I won't be alone in my quest. I know now that Edward will be with me.

I open my eyes fully and find myself staring at a familiar ceiling. The room is completely dark, with the moon being the only source of light, bathing the room in its sickly pale glow. I can tell I'm in the hospital, I'm well acquainted with it and its rooms, but I can't recall how I ended up here. Did _he_ get me here? What's the story this time? I must have "tripped" again. Clumsy me.

Knowing he never leaves me all alone in the hospital, I turn my head slightly, expecting to see Charlie sitting in the uncomfortable chair in the far corner of the dark room, staring at me intently, daring me to tell the truth to anyone. Instead, I'm surprised to see Edward's mop of hair next to me. He has fallen asleep on my hand, facing away from me, with his cheek lying in my palm. That's the weight I felt earlier.

I lift my hand gingerly from beneath him and run it through his hair, trying to wake him up.

"Mmm," he moans and stirs a little, but doesn't wake up.

"Edward," I whisper.

"Mmpf."

"Edward, baby, wake up," I say a bit more loudly.

"I'm staying, Dad," he mumbles and sighs. He rubs his face against the mattress and his head shoots up when he feels scratchy cotton instead of my skin against his cheek.

"Hey sleepyhead," I smile weakly. And then I gasp. His eye is almost swollen shut and his jaw is bruised. Guilt washes over me, knowing he's hurt because of me.

"Bella! Thank God, you're awake," he exhales and scoops me up in a tight –although careful- hug. "Jesus, you scared me."

"I'm okay," I furrow my nose against his neck and breathe in his intoxicating scent, calming myself down in the process. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"You're really asking me that?" he asks as if I'm being ridiculous. "What about you? Why did you do this, Bella?" he frames my head with his warm hands and his sea-like orbits stare intently into my eyes. "You said you were going to talk, not play 'Tekken'." He shakes his head. "Do you have any idea how worried you had me? What if something had happened to you-"

"But it didn't. I'm fine, really," I try to reassure him.

"_Fine_," he huffs and plops back down in his chair. "When I heard something breaking, I called my father and told him to get down there with reinforcements. I knocked on your door, but you wouldn't answer, and then I came through the back door, and you were bleeding, and your foot was at an impossible angle, and-"

"Shhh, shhh, Edward baby, calm down, please. Take deep breaths," I tell him and his panting slowly stops. I scratch my nails on his scalp and he purrs. He shudders and his forehead drops lightly on my collarbone.

"Had anything happened to you…" he shakes his head a little and his voice breaks, "I don't know what I would've done."

My head swims with questions and I need to get my thoughts in order, so I tell him to sit. He goes for the chair again, but I stop him, shaking my head. I pat the mattress next to me and he hops on the bed. He slides an arm around my shoulders and I rest my head on his. That's fucking better. _Now_, we can continue.

"So, how bad is it this time?" I ask, wincing.

"Well, from what Dad told me, your father actually managed to break some of your ribs and your ankle. He also split your lip and-" he clears his throat, "-he hit your head badly enough to give you a concussion." He kisses my hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there, Ladybug, I'm so sorry-"

"Edward, honestly, stop with the fucking apologies already. It wasn't your fault, alright? It was Charlie's. By the way, where is he?" I wonder and my eyes dart around the room.

"His fellow colleagues took him into custody," he smiles. "He won't hurt you again."

"Oh," is my only response and I nod slightly. Honestly, I've been dreaming this very moment for years. I expected to feel more. But I'm numb. I just… don't care. I'm relieved of course, but I don't feel like jumping up and down or something. He's gone. Well, good. Moving on.

I snuggle closer to him and inhale where his neck meets his shoulder. "How long have I been sleeping?" I murmur.

"Uhm, it's Monday night. The doctors decided to keep you out, so your body could heal."

"Ok, hold the fucking phone," I startle Edward. "I remember two shots. Who was hurt?" I look up at him.

"Weeeell..." he trails off.

"Yes?" I cock a brow. Patience is not my cup of tea.

"The police had to shoot Charlie in the leg in order to approach him. He was out of control and bearing a gun. He was considered a threat for not being completely in his mind," he explains.

"And the second?" I ask, though I have an idea.

He shrugs. "It was just a flesh wound."

"Edward! He motherfucking shot you?" I ask incredulously.

"Bella, baby, calm down," he orders softly, as my heartbeat monitor goes off. "It was nothing. A scratch only, really. See?" he pulls his sweater off and bunches his T-shirt sleeve up. "Dad gave me some stitches and then taped me. I'll be fine in a couple of weeks."

His bicep is wrapped in gauze, but otherwise he seems unharmed. I have no other choice but to trust him.

"Nothing else?" I press, chewing on my lip.

"You've probably seen my face by now, right?" he grimaces and I nod once. "I was smart enough to leave my glasses in the car. My knuckles were a bit sore but I promise I'm fine, okay? Do you believe me?"

I nod again.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep, Ladybug?" he murmurs against my temple.

"I just woke. I'm not fucking sleepy," I, well, I yawn. It's the fucking medicine, makes me drowsy as fuck.

"Sleep, baby," he chuckles and kisses me softly. "You have a big day ahead of you."

"You're staying, right?" I crane my neck to see him.

"I'll be right here," he nods and gets more comfortable on the bed. I tilt my chin, kissing him lightly and he responds immediately. He cups my face and pulls me closer, hungrily. His tongue laps at my bottom lip, asking silently for entrance. I open immediately with a moan, and he plunges his wet tongue in my mouth, always careful of my tender lip. He pulls me tighter against him, as if afraid I'll disappear. He caresses down my back, my waist, my ass, my thigh, until he reaches the back of my knee and he drags it to him, hitching it over his legs.

He's desperate, and I understand he got scared. He still is. The scene he walked in wasn't the nicest, but he's still here, regardless. He watches over me, he holds me. He… _cares_. And I love him for it.

His hand on my ass cheek freezes and I realize I just said that aloud. _Stupid, stupid girl._

Panting, I break away from him, trying to cover what I said up, somehow.

"Uhm," I pant, "I didn't mean to blurt it out like that," I wince, chest heaving.

"But you meant _it_?" he asks, his voice laced with longing.

"Yeah," I smile shyly and blush. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Not being able to stay away, being drawn to him, confiding in him, willing to give him a second chance, trusting him. I can clearly recognize the feeling now, and I like it. Embrace it even. After everything, I thought I was incapable of feeling it ever again. Turns out I'm proven wrong. And it feels good. Again, I don't react as I expected me to. I'm not freaking out, I'm simply basking. It's nice, not being on guard all the time, not overreacting, just reveling. My smile widens.

"Thank fuck," he whispers and drops his forehead to mine, his dirty side shining through. "'cause I love you too, Ladybug," he breathes out, barely audible, but I still hear him.

"Really?"

"Really," he mumbles and kisses me again chastely. "Now, let's sleep, shall we?" he grins lopsidedly.

"Yes," I agree, nose buried in the crook of his neck, breathing my favorite scent in.

~*~TBL~*~

When I come to my senses again, I'm still wrapped in Edward's embrace with the back of my head on his chest. His soothing heartbeat makes me want to go back to sleep as he plays with my hair, but, sure enough, the drugs have worn off and my ankle is fucking killing me, and so are my ribs.

"Ugh, σκατά," I groan and rub my cheek against his tee.

"Good morning, Ladybug," Edward greets me in a gruffy voice. Yum.

"Morning," I mumble, and try to settle unsuccessfully.

"Does your ankle bother you?" he queries, worried. I nod and he calls for a nurse.

"Still love me?" he whispers softly against my hair.

"No, it wore off during sleep," I deadpan and crack an eye open. "Such things don't just go away, dipshit."

"Sorry," he smiles. At least, he has the decency to look ashamed. Hhmpf. He should. So little faith in me. "I love you, too," he admits.

"Good."

After the nurse gives me some morphine –I think- for my ribs and ankle, Carlisle enters.

"Good morning, Miss Swan. How are you today?" Carlisle bristles cheerfully as he strolls in my room and stands at the foot of the bed. He hangs out with Alice way too much.

"Fucking peachy," I grumble and try to furrow closer to Edward. "Every-fucking-thing hurts, γαμώτο." I know I'm mixing the two languages, but I'm in pain and sleepy, therefore cranky. Edward just chuckles and tightens his arm around me as his father snickers.

"Bella love, I'm sure he has something important to say. Could you raise your head?" he pleads. That's not good.

"You know something I don't, but it will freak me out, don't you?" I look at him suspiciously.

"He only knows I have 'something important' to announce," Carlisle defends him. _Oh, okay then._ It's not like I'd hurt him or something, I wouldn't even if I could -which I can't. But it's nice knowing that he didn't keep anything from me even for these few short minutes I've been barely awake since yesterday. It's… reassuring. Comforting.

"Go ahead, Doc," I gesture for him to start and sit up on the bed, still leaning on Edward for support. He wraps his arm around my waist to hold me up and keep most of my weight off my sore ribs.

"It'll be fine," he whispers in my hair and kisses my neck lightly and I squeeze his hand.

"Firstly, I'd like to discuss your condition, Isabella," he says seriously and Carlisle slips into doctor mode. "Three of your ribs were broken, one of those in more than one spot. I consider it a miracle that none of your organs obtained any damage. Your ankle is also going to be out of order for a while," he flips through the charts he's holding. "It, too, is broken."

"Edward told me," I mumble.

"Other than that, you have numerous bruises on your face, arms, torso and legs. Any sort of dizziness you might feel is due to a mild concussion. I suggest you take it easy for the next couple of weeks, at least," he stretches and gives me a pointed look.

"I'll make sure of that, Dad," Edward chips in.

"I'm sure you will, son," Carlisle mumbles. "Last but not least, there's something I'm mildly alarmed about, and as a doctor, I couldn't help but notice. I'd like you to put on a few pounds, Miss Swan. Anyone would've easily guessed that with such a 'provider' you would be neglected, but this is scary. You're bordering malnourishment. I don't like your weight, especially for your height. I talked with the doctor here and I've written down a diet I'd like you to follow strictly. It's a wonder you didn't feel exhausted."

I nod.

"Now, something else I wanted to discuss with you Isabella. From what my wife told me you're somehow related to Maria Dwyer?" he trails off, presumably waiting for me to respond. I nod and motion for him to go on, my breath bated.

"Well, Esme contacted her. After a lengthy talk over the phone we only confirmed what we all suspected. And, since you're father is unavailable," he smiles softly, "your mother is here, Bella. She called a few hours ago from Sea-Tac. She'll be here in a few minutes."

My breath hitches. My head swims. It all makes sense now and I smile bitterly to myself. It's too good to be true. My father's arrest, Edward's admitting that he loves me and now this? I should have known there would be a catch.

"Bella?" Edward whispers soft in my ear. "Say something, Ladybug," he pleads.

"Edward," I whimper.

"Yes, baby?"

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming. It's too good to be true. Pleasre tell me αυτός ο μαλάκας is gone for good. Please tell me my mom's here for real," I cry softly and the floodgates open up. The sound of the door to my room closing alerts me to Carlisle's departure but I barely acknowledge it. Edward tightens his arms around me.

"Shhh, it's okay, everything is okay, " he coos. "Your father will never hurt you again; I'll make sure of that. Your mother being here is also true, Ladybug. She's here. She's coming for you."

That only makes me cry harder. It's cathartic. They're tears of joy -utter fucking bliss- relief, excitement, nervousness and lastly terror.

"What am I gonna tell her about Carrie?" I choke out through my sobs. It'll fucking break her. She comes back to two children to find only one. She'll fucking hate me. She'll want nothing to have to do with me. I'll probably end up in a group home. Ah well. It beats being with Charlie. But what about Edward? I can't exactly live without him anymore. Stop. _Right_. Deep breaths. I'm getting way ahead of myself. I have thirty minutes give or take until she comes here and faces the biggest disappointment she could have given life to. I'm going to enjoy them. Twisting in his arms, I lift my head to reach Edwards lips.

"Kiss me," I beg and his mouth instantly connects with mine. Passionately, but still carefully, he weaves his hands in my hair at the nape of my neck and holds me in place. We part our lips simultaneously, our tongues seeking each other's. We kiss wetly, messily, but I don't care. I need to make sure this is real. At this point, he's the only one who can give me that.

All too soon, he pulls back, his forehead resting on mine. "I'm here, Πασχαλίτσα," he whispers, looking into my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," I whisper back.

"I love you," he says. I hate that he only has to say it for my sake, to calm my nervous ass down.

"I love you, too," I admit. Yep, still like the sound of it.

"Why don't you rest for a while, hmm? I'll wake you up in time, I promise."

"What am I gonna tell her about Carrie, Edward?" I ask again quietly, more desperate than before.

"I don't know," he whispers resigned. "But whatever happens, I _do_ know she won't blame you Bella. I promise."

"You can't really know that. Dad blamed me all the time."

"He blamed you all the time because he had a purpose, because he wanted to break you and make you weak, because he is a son of a bitch," he seethes. "She won't be like this. And I know that," he goes on before I interrupt him, "because I've talked with her a few times, during that, uh..., mess with Heidi. She's kind. A tough shell but she looked genuinely concerned. Now that I think about it, she reminds me of you a little."

"Tell me about what happened back in Chicago." Partly because I honestly want to know and be there for him the way I couldn't when he first told me, and partly because I need him to take my mind off things.

"Well, I've already told you that I wouldn't come out of my shell. The first year of high school was all about forgetting and letting go. The second one began pretty much in the same manner. Mom and dad had started discussing about moving to the Olympic peninsula. Mom missed her sister, dad had gotten this proposal but nothing was certain. I didn't care either way. Anyway," he sighs. "One day -or night- Jasper said he had had enough of my brooding. We were going out whether I liked it or not. Of all the parties in all the houses in Chicago, we went to Harrison's," he quotes to lighten the mood. "Heidi was there, too. I had noticed her, of course. She is pretty, I guess. But I didn't care about girls at the time. Anyway, she was giving me beer after beer and I was getting tipsy. It was nice. I was like 'Wow, Dwyer likes me. That's something!' She took my hand and led me in a room and tried to get me naked. I passed out before she managed to get my jacket off, but somehow we woke up together, sans clothes. I hurried out of there, without waking her up. I was sure one of the sleeping bodies strewn all over the place would. A month went by and then came a test. With a plus sign. Accusations were made, I denied everything and she'd say I'm the father. Jasper was filled with guilt, he blamed himself. He thought he should have looked after me," rolls his eyes and kisses my temple.

"Eventually, Heidi confessed that she had framed me. A week later we all realized why. She was so far along she was starting to show. Lame plan if you ask me. But the damage was done and when dad said he had an interview for the position here we couldn't leave fast enough. I thought nothing was going to change and then BOOM! You came along," he smiles down at me. "And I couldn't be more thankful."

"I'm glad. And I'm sorry for what happened to you."

"Don't be," he looks at me. "I'm not. It brought me to you after all," he smiles angelically.

"Gee, do you want any crackers with that cheese?" I tease.

"Nuh-uh. I'd rather eat it off you." I burst in a fit of giggles and he dips down to kiss me.

"Don't make me laugh, asshole. It hurts."

A knock on my door interrupts us.

"Bella, dear?" Esme's head pops in. "Maria or, um, Eirini is here."

Fuck, this is it. With a hand squeezing Edward's and my teeth working overtime on my poor lip I nod for her to let her enter.

Stepping aside, she reveals… her. For a moment I have to blink. And, then I blink again. Jesus, she looks just like Carrie. With welled up eyes, I blubber out the only thing I've been unable to for so many years.

"Mommy?"

"Ω, Θεέ μου," she breathes and her hand flies to her mouth, tears spilling over on both of our cheeks.

_Oh, God indeed._

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

**Σκατά = Shit**

**Γαμώτο = Damnit**

**Αυτός ο μαλάκας = That asshole. I'm pretty sure you all know that word, though.**

**Πασχαλίτσα = Ladybug**

**The quote I'm talking about -though I altered it- is from Casablanca.**

**And... another cliffie. Oops, I did it again. But, I just couldn't leave Bella alone! She needs her fudging mum! What did you think of Eirini? That's the equivalent of Renée in Greek. And Charlie is gone. Can I get an Amen? About damn time right?**

**Leave me your thoughts please, they're thouroughly appreciated. Now, I have to go shopping. For Santorini. Are you Jealous yet? I would be. Just saying...**

**Toodles! **

**Fairy xxoxo**


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